


Harry Potter and the Dreamer Awakened

by Ononymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Crossover, Gen, Horcrux Hunting, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-01-30 00:23:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 100,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12642306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ononymous/pseuds/Ononymous
Summary: Frisk had finally let go. Nothing had worked. They were resigned to leaving one friend behind. But then a miracle happened, and their new family is now truly complete. Everyone can truly move on together. Even if disturbing dreams do their best to threaten dark clouds on the horizon.Meanwhile, as the Dark Lord tightens his grip on the Wizarding World, Harry Potter and his friends must uncover his protections if he is to be vanquished once and for all, and their quest will take them to a faraway land Wizards steer clear of. Can they learn what became of the Wizards of Ebott? Can they serve as impromptu representatives of Wizards while focusing on their task? Can they help with the looming storm?And can Papyrus remember their names?





	1. The Boy Who Lived Again

Nobody paid him much heed. There weren't that many to pay heed to him in the first place. Not that the Underground was now abandoned. There were jobs in Waterfall and the Core. Hotland provided refuge for those who found the surface unbearably cold, and vice versa for Snowdin. And some just chose to remain in the homes they'd known their whole lives. Even those who had moved often returned, to visit the place itself rather than their friends and family. It would always be a part of them no matter where they went. Perhaps how busy they'd become is why he passed them by without much interest. It suited him, for he had no time to comment on them either.

_Home..._

He had observed how things had progressed as the Underground emptied, from shadow and nook and cranny to avoid detection and heartache. He had ached himself, though heartache might not have been the most appropriate term. But watching the joy and excitement blanketing everyone was as close as he could have come to feeling it himself. His envy had been overwhelming, but reflecting on that brief time with a friend had helped blunt it. Not that he needed to now.

_Home..._

He had to practically force himself to stop when he reached the Resort. As much as he wanted to just keep running, he didn't actually know where he'd be going once he stepped outside. So he had his very first interaction with the disinterested looking janitor, who he had observed and learned often went to the surface at weekends, and volunteered the location without even paying attention to him. So much the better, he was steeling himself for a lot of difficult questions, and he wasn't quite ready for that yet.

_Home..._

Thinking back on it later that day, running through his old house had been little more than a blur, but the vivid image of retrieving one precious memento from the bedroom was burnt into his mind. They were gone, and he could see what they'd been clearly now, but he could never forget them. He owed them that, if nothing else.

_Home..._

It had never looked less like a throne room. There had always been flowers, but they'd been carefully cultivated. Now, in spite of neglect, the flowers were colonising everywhere. Some even grew in the cracks of the cavern walls. The throne itself was in danger of being swallowed. He allowed himself a chuckle. Its owner would love it this way. Past the throne room, down the steps, through the final cavern and...

He'd thought he'd been ready, remembering when he'd set foot on this plateau once before. But still he ended up dazzled, for the brightness of the sky had been accompanied by a blinding white ground. Snowdin had conquered the land, and as his eyes gradually adjusted, it took a long time to make anything but the snow out. The forest at the base of the mountain was a murky green, looking much as it had the last time. Though a cruel wind gave him a blast, he ignored it, looking at the lake and the open fields and...

There.

A town had been in that spot last time as well. Now it looked completely different. Larger and more organised. And if the janitor was right...

_Home!_

Despite his heart hammering with longing and anticipation, he took care following the labelled path. The last thing he wanted was to slip on the snow after all this time. But that longing was there. He'd see them again. He'd see _all_ of them again! He would have a real life! The present was pretty bright, but the future looked even brighter.

It was all he could think about.

* * *

The town was indeed new, newer than it appeared, for its citizens had a combination of efficient building techniques and a knack for making it feel well lived in. Until a few months ago only a few rotten remains were visible. But a vanguard from Mount Ebott had made the journey to a small city further down the valley, spearheaded by an unlikely ambassador. It had been tense for a moment, but a combination of earnest but goofy sincerity, healing the scrape of a child who tried to get a look at them from a tree, and a perfectly timed application of a whoopee cushion, had broken the ice. From there, talks with people who could decide things had progressed smoothly, and the remains of the old town near the mountain had been reborn with a colourful population.

But there were unresolved issues. And at that moment in one of the larger houses, a conference was underway to discuss one that weighed heavily on them.

"It troubles me too, but I don't think we should do anything just yet."

Two pairs of large furry hands rested around cups of tea on the kitchen table. A third pair, much smaller and hairless, was busy drawing a picture.

"Well when shall you act, Asgore? You are the king, after all."

"I know, Tori-*AHEM*-el," he was getting better at catching himself, "but after our initial foray has gone so well, I don't think we're at the position yet to broach such questions."

"And I appreciate that, I really do. But those of us who entered the Underground are feeling restless about this. How come we've not seen any humans use magic? Where are they? Could they return? What if they disagree with the peace and try to reimpose their sentence?"

"I haven't gone unpetitioned either, Toriel. But you saw how nonplussed people were when Doctor Alphys dropped that hint. If we start probing about human magic in earnest, we invite more questions about the barrier, and while I am willing to explain-"

"No. The discussion you had with the Governor was perilous enough in that matter. I still cannot believe they were willing to look past it in the preliminary agreements." She smiled at the young child drawing the picture in gratitude. "We're nowhere near ready for a public discussion of it. In the meantime, you are right. The best we can do is continue to build relations with the humans we have met. At the very least, we will have defenders should they return."

Frisk contributed to the discussion by taking out their red pencil for Papyrus' scarf and Undyne's hair. Not that they weren't interested in what their parents were talking about, but they had contributed what little they knew on the subject long ago, and it was pointless to repeat themselves. Mostly old stories probably born of superstition. Or at least they thought it was superstition before proof of magic came across their path. They had helped Alphys do research, but the stories were centuries old and there was nothing recent to add to them.

"Speaking of Alphys, she broached a theory that human magic and monster magic were connected, and to seal one was to starve the other. Is that possible?"

"You know better, Asgore. There are other creatures besides monsters and humans with their own connection to magic, and humans usually required tools to channel their own magic. Few can do as we do. I have instructed Frisk since we emerged, and they have shown not one spark." She turned to Frisk with a slight dip of the head. "I am sorry my child, but it appears you are magically inert."

Frisk reached out a hand and rested it on Toriel's, an amusing reversal. They had long since accepted they had no magical potential, but they had persevered because Toriel had hoped she would have someone to teach once again. Her apparent acceptance of the situation was surprisingly sad, especially while Frisk was struggling with acceptance of something that gnawed at them.

"It's strange we haven't encountered any other magical creatures, either."

"Well this land never had much diversity. It was mostly monsters and humans, and not many of them were wizards."

"Hmm, that is true," he gently stroked his beard, "however it means we are ultimately in limbo until these questions are answered."

"I do not like it, Asgore. Such questions could be key to our success, and for something beyond our control or knowledge to appear and undermine it would be unbearable. But ultimately, you are right. Thank you for coming to discuss it."

There was a knock at the front door. It was soft but urgent. Toriel stood up with grace and headed for it, closing the kitchen door behind her to keep a wintry breeze from chilling the room. Asgore's posture shifted, some of the tension he had around the former Queen slipping away.

"So, um, Frisk. Are you looking forward to this weekend? I thought we might go to the lake. Perhaps even rent a boat?"

"Are you sure you can fit? I'd hate for us to capsize, especially in this weather. Mom would get mad."

"Don't forget, we monsters are a lot lighter than humans think. As long as there's one long and wide enough I should be fine."

"Well, I was thinking of inviting a friend from school. At least on the Saturday."

"Oh. Monsterkid? Snowy? Bob Junior?"

"Um, a human actually. Her name is Jane."

Bushy eyebrows raised, partly in surprise, partly in suspicion. "Are you doing this because you're friends with her? Or it because you feel the need to try and soften up the next generation to make friends with us?"

"Oh, she's definitely my friend! I mean, not my absolute favourite, but..."

Asgore sighed. Frisk anticipated a talk about how they didn't always have to try and hit two birds with one stone, so they readied a rebuttal that at least they'd taken to friends their own age. But Asgore let it slide.

"Well, as your mother said, making human friends is important for us. Okay then, perhaps the lake is a bad idea for a new friend, just in case we would run into difficulty. Maybe we should just go to the cinema?"

"There's only the human one down the valley, you really won't fit there! And you can't use your weight as an excuse."

He laughed softly. "True. But I have no problem standing. Is there anything in particular you'd like to see?"

"Well..."

Frisk tried to think about what had been advertised, but something distracted them. There was a chilly breeze ticking their ankle. The sort of breeze Asgore's fur would have concealed from him. The front door must still be open. Come to think of it, Toriel must be there too, but they hadn't heard anynything. Even if they couldn't make it out surely someone would have said something.

As if on cue, someone _did_ say something. Frisk couldn't make it out, but its familiarity sparked a few precious memories that froze them solid, hyper alert for the next sound. Even Asgore raised his head, more curious than anything, though sparked by similar memories coming from a much deeper place.

The next sound was Toriel, and it was clear as day.

" _ **ASRIEL!!!**_ "

Asgore blinked. Then Frisk's drawing was shunted two feet to the right, the heavy scraping accompanied by a clatter as Asgore's chair toppled over, and the kitchen door opened with a bang. By the time Frisk had gotten off their chair and entered the hallway, they found their path blocked. Asgore was as frozen now as they had been a moment ago. Toriel's heavy sobbing could be heard clearly. It turned out the best angle to get a view was between Asgore's legs.

Toriel stood quite steady, continuing to face the front door and the snowy street beyond. Her head and chest trembled as she continued to sob, and over her shoulder rested a head, smaller than Toriel or Asgore and missing horns, but with fur just as pristine white, and ears just as long and floppy. His eyes were closed in a look of contentment. He wasn't sobbing, but there were tears of his own. Green and yellow striped arms ending in fuzzy white hands wrapped tightly around Toriel's chest. Eventually, the smaller head opened his eyes, the glint of green overbright.

"Dad!"

Toriel had completely forgotten the others in the house. Asriel's exclamation surprised her enough that he didn't need to wriggle as much as he might have to get clear of her grasp. Dropping lightly to the floor, he darted round her and towards his father. Frisk was currently unnoticed, but they watched as the furry paws leapt up, and Asgore caught him mechanically. For a moment, he was still frozen. Then Frisk watched as he slowly guided Asriel's head onto his chest, his entire body finally loosening up. Where Toriel had trembled, he began to shudder with each breath.

"..." he said. It seemed to convey everything.

Half-hearing and half-feeling footsteps, Frisk looked ahead to see Toriel had closed the door and was bearing down on them. Not wanting to get accidentally trampled, they made a coordinated withdrawal as Toriel embraced the others. The last time such a union had occurred was a century ago, but for everyone involved it felt like yesterday. Frisk kept trying to register what had happened, given they had been trying to accept this could not be, but gradually a great content swept over them as they were a silent witness to something so deeply personal. It took several long minutes, but Toriel finally stepped clear as Asgore carefully put his son down again.

"M-my... my child," she stammered, one hand over her heart and the other on the wall to steady herself, "w-what are... how are-?"

"Oh, Frisk!"

Dashing between his father's legs, Asriel raced towards the bottom step Frisk had sat on. Despite the lack of warning, Frisk was on their feet and ready to catch him. It was even tighter than their last hug, and Frisk could hear the magnificent shattering sound the barrier had made as Asriel had rent it asunder. They could feel their own regrets surrounding the friend in their arms melting away. For a brief moment, there were no other concerns.

"Ha ha," they said, "now _I_ don't want to let go."

Asriel shook with a chuckle. Then he noticed Frisk was fidgeting a little.

"Huh? Oh." He released Frisk and reached under his sweater. Before long he extracted something golden which had been pressing between them.

"It's my locket. Sorry if it was pressing on you. You know, part of the set I got for me and... Well, I still want to remember them."

For the first time he lost his smile. It would have been fitting if Frisk pulled the matching locket from under their jumper, but it was currently lying in their room upstairs. Still, they continued to beam.

"Asriel!"

The current streak of forgetting who was there was kept alive. Both children now looked up at the parents, whose expressions were a perfect blend of shock and confusion.

"Asriel, you know Frisk? Frisk, _you_ know Asriel? What's going on? How can this be? Is... this just a dream... will I wake...?"

The question died in Toriel's throat. A hand rested on her shoulder, and she made no effort to shake it off. The children looked at each other, wondering how the explanation would start.

And then Asgore slapped himself. So hard he nearly fell. The others gazed at him.

"Well, that hurt," he stated as a matter of fact. Everyone laughed.

* * *

Far away from the long and complicated story that was about to begin, in a countryside even more deeply blanketed in snow than Mount Ebott, two friends huddled in a draughty corridor on a break from their studies. The skinny young man had been given a difficult project to perform, and he had been quickly stymied. His friend's bushy hair was slightly more dishevelled than usual, having ploughed her way through the resources of their school to help him, but to no avail. It made a nice change from her irritation at him over the bezoar.

"All I could find was this, in the introduction to _Magicks Most Evile_ \- listen - ' _of the Horcrux, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak or give direction..._ '"

"Wow, Hermione. I can't believe the library let you down."

"Neither can I, Harry," she snapped. Her go to option for answering magical quandaries coming up short was irritating, on top of the whole Ron situation. "That said, there was one other clue in it. ' _Though accounts are of dubious source, the Wizards of Ebott stand accused of dwelling in the same realm as the Horcrux, but for causes much fairer._ '"

"Ebott?" He adjusted his glasses. "What's...?"

"It's a country. Small and far away from here. Before you ask, I did look them up, and all I could find are historical accounts, no magical research. That won't give us any clues about Horcruxes either."

"Would one of the teachers know? Or, I don't know, somebody in the Order?"

"I doubt it, Harry. Don't you remember History of-?" she caught herself and smiled in spite of herself, "Oh of course you don't. You remember Salem at least, don't you?" Harry nodded. "Well it wasn't the only impetus for Wizards going into hiding. Around the same time, all contact with Wizards from Ebott ceased. There were investigations, but the details are pretty sketchy. At the time they thought there was some sort of plague, but enough people cited Salem and claimed Muggles had caused a massacre. Seems unlikely when you could just apparate away from danger. But if that did happen, it's sort of sad, because when I was reading it seems that Ebott was actually the site of one of the greatest Wizard-Muggle alliances in the Middle Ages, though we don't know why they did that. Ebott is full of mystery, it seems. Anyway, the arguments were still there when the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy was signed, and Wizards have generally steered clear of Ebott ever since."

"Well, maybe they were trying their Horcrux-thing and blew themselves up."

"It's not impossible, Harry, but I don't see the point in speculating when we still have no idea what a Horcrux is."

Harry frowned. She was right of course, but it was still something interesting to think about. If Professor Binns had thrown out a few more mysteries like that maybe he wouldn't have failed History of Magic. Also, it had been useful for distracting Hermione from her anger over the bezoar in potions.

"Maybe," he said, unsure of why he was even doing it. "maybe when Voldemort is defeated, we can find out what happened there?"

"Wh-what? Why?"

"It's a mystery. Isn't that our speciality?"

"Oh Harry," she playfully tutted at him, "I'm not saying it wouldn't be interesting, but try not to think about it too much. Voldemort is the priority, and then we'll probably have to study for our NEWTs and get a job."

"Wow, somebody's confident."

They laughed. In these troubled times every now and then you needed a laugh. One of their troubles made themselves known with a nauseatingly squeaky " _Won-won!_ " echoing down the corridor, at which Hermione shot off in the other direction before Harry could follow, so instead he turned to his friend's mop of ginger hair, trying not to comment on the less than pleased look on his face.

* * *

"And then you caught me trying to hurt Frisk, and then I m-manipulated Papyrus to bring everyone to the castle, because I w-wanted to... absorb all your souls..."

It had been a long story, but Asgore and Toriel were patient, even as their emotions seemed to swing wildly with each development. Reawakened grief at the reminder of the last time they saw their son. A mother's fury and a father's horror at the True Lab. Anguish at the circumstances their son had found himself in and some of his new hobbies. Surprisingly, none of them dwelled on his revelations. The fact of his own survival seemed to act as a talisman, numbing the effects the story would have had if it had been anyone else recounting it, and they all continued to bathe in the miracle of this reunion. Asriel didn't dwell on Flowey either, which was odd to Frisk, but perhaps their own forgiveness had allowed him to move on as well. It could all be left behind in the Underground.

Now, the larger monsters sat in wonder as the last battle in the Underground was recounted. Learning that Frisk had reawakened the good in their son, and that he had sacrificed that to set them all free, was almost too much to bare. Gratitude to Frisk for entirely new reasons, fresh grief as he talked about his self-imposed exile and how he struggled with losing himself again, it mixed with everything else. And finally...

"And then this morning, I was thinking about when I said... goodbye to you, Frisk. I felt sad, but there was something else. A warmth I didn't recognise at first. And then I remembered when you hugged me, it had been so unexpected after everything I did, and the warmth filled me. I... I realised I was happy. I wanted to see you again! I felt dizzy, and I suddenly realised I was taller and I could feel my arms again and I yanked on my tail to make sure it wasn't a dream and it hurt and I knew what I wanted and I ran and ran until I found someone and asked where you were and..."

His voice seized up with emotion. He scratched his ear absent-mindedly. Everyone had tears now. A deep breath, and he could finish.

"I think by focusing on those happy times, I finally could feel as Flowey, and that was enough. I think I have a soul of my own again!"

"Oh, Asriel!" Toriel was bearing down on him. Asgore however remained where he was, his joy equal to Toriel's, but a hint of something else was staying his hand. If Frisk had to guess, the results of Alphys' experiments were weighing on him. That wold surely fade. As would their own curiosity about something. But they wanted to ask anyway.

"This is amazing, Asriel," they said carefully, "I can't believe it all turned out so well so quickly. But... well, is there a way to make sure you're okay? Like, get your soul checked out or something?"

Asriel looked over at Frisk from his mother's grasp and trembled a little, appearing intensely uncomfortable at this suggestion. "That would mean going to D-Doctor Alphys. And I don't blame her f-for what happened because otherwise I wouldn't be here, but-"

"No." Asgore had re-entered the conversation. "I appreciate your concern, Frisk, but I will not subject Asriel to anything like that again unless it's absolutely necessary. Whatever comes, we can deal with it as a family."

"Th-thanks, Dad." aaid Asriel. Toriel nodded at Asgore's decisive manner. Frisk could see no point in pressing the point, and they didn't want to undermine what was happening anyway. They had just as much of a desire to move forward. And they would be by their family's side if any of them needed help. They were determined to.

"But," Asriel started up again, "can you ever f-forgive me? I mean, I tried to hurt Frisk, and then I took all your souls and tried to hurt them again..."

"Of course!" Asgore was now taking a leading role. "The way you described it, you had lost your way. You had forgotten how to feel. I doubt any of us could have emerged from your position much better. And then you made it up to us. You made it up to us in the greatest way possible. But you couldn't have done it without help. Frisk," he looked towards his child sitting on a sofa, beaming with pride, "it appears we owe you even more than we had thought, and we already owed you everything."

One or both of their parents had talked about the debt all monsters owed at least once a week. Frisk usually took it in stride. This time, with the last puzzle piece in place, they let the words sink in, and the niggling doubt died away. Eventually they choked out a small "Thank you."

"Now," said Asgore, clapping his hands together as he got down to business, "my son, are you hungry? Have you eaten since you, er, became yourself?"

"I haven't thought about it, but yeah, I'm starving!"

"An early dinner it is, then," said Toriel, finally releasing her son and rising to her feet. "Asgore, would you..." she struggled with her feelings at the look on Asriel's face, "Would you care to stay?"

They looked directly at each other, and then their son. Frisk saw matching resolve on their faces.

"Yes, Toriel, I'd be delighted." Asriel gave a squeak of joy and accompanied his mother to the kitchen. "Frisk, perhaps while your mother is cooking, do you need any help cleaning your room? It appears you'll be sharing it for a while."

"It shouldn't be too bad. I need to clear some stuff over to my shelves and drawers. Bob Junior didn't make the guest bed though, despite Mom asking him to."

"Ah yes, I remember the Temmie Flakes he left over the bed in my house." He chuckled. "But that is for this weekend. Speaking of which, perhaps we should re-examine the lake idea?"

"Yeah. Jane can wait for another time. Oh, and maybe we should look up at the stars too! He... he told me how he likes stars."

After a slightly awkward family dinner and instant ratification of the weekend plans by Asriel, Frisk began to think of the implications. First order of business would be to speak to their friends in person about what had happened, before they found out by other means. This was especially important for Alphys, because otherwise she'd be wondering why Toriel would probably be glaring daggers at her for a while. However their plans never got much further than this, as with a quick tap on their shoulder they looked around to a flash of light. Asriel had snuck Frisk's phone off the table and just taken a selfie.

"Now how do I send this to Mom and Dad? Is it 'Send All'-?"

"Wait-"

Beep. "Um... oh."

Taking their phone back, Frisk looked at the photo. A white fuzzy face with a huge grin, with a tanned hairless face looking stoic. It looked good, Asriel had an eye for pictures. Before long, their phone was vibrating every other minute. Deciding to let the fallout settle before glancing at it, eventually most of their contacts had sent one or two messages. Alphys sent more than a dozen. Oh well, no time like the present. Or tomorrow at least.

* * *

It hadn't been a productive day for Harry. After the conversation with Hermione had produced no immediate leads for him to follow, both of them, and Ron, had been swallowed up by their lessons, including a mountain of Transfiguration homework. He'd been nudged by Ron after dinner, suggesting he take another shot at asking Professor Slughorn directly. So he went to his office and knocked. This was just as successful as Hermione's jaunt through the library, and he cursed the half hour lost he could have spent writing about changing jaw structure before Quidditch practice.

It was pitch black outside before he and Ron got to start their homework. Hermione had once again gone to the library to tackle her Arithmancy essay, which suited Ron just fine. Conversation between the two of them was mostly on point, Harry only briefly mentioning Hermione hadn't learned what Horcruxes were yet, and the look on his face told Harry that continuing with the diversion about Ebott could wait for another time.

Exhausted, but glad to put the work behind them, they both silently agreed to call it an early night, for whatever definition of early applied to NEWT students. Ron's snores filled the room quickly, but Harry took advantage of the time to think about Slughorn and Horcruxes and historical mysteries...

His dreams were perfectly ordinary. He was leading the Quidditch Team for practice, and Professor Slughorn kept dropping the Quaffle. Harry angrily berated him that if only he let go of the Horcrux memory he could grab it better, so Slughorn offered him a box of crystalized pineapple that young Won-Won could share with his girlfriend, and Hermione was explaining that she didn't like pineapple, but Ron looked tempted.

And then, when Oliver Wood sent everyone to the changing rooms, he heard voices. Like a whisper from a crack.

_Enjoy your home for now. Repayment can come in due time..._

_No! Not him!_

Harry didn't have time to dwell on these voices, as Oliver Wood dashed into the room, ordering Harry to perform a Wronski Feint right now, because it meant Gryffindor would start the next game with fifty free points. Harry had to remind him he was Captain now, but Slughorn sided with Wood. And sure enough, when Harry woke the next day, the voices were forgotten.


	2. The Dreams

Whatever plans Frisk had been forging about how to deal with Asriel's return were quickly sidestepped by their parents, for there was one elephant in the room which had to be addressed. The story of his death had naturally been a big part of the story of why the barrier had broken, so explaining why he was alive was awkward. However to Frisk's surprise, the Governor had waived it aside with the same air as Asgore's earlier confession. Was the mining agreement they negotiated really so lucrative that he wouldn't risk jeopardising it? Another curious part of the meeting was that the Governor had asked about certain aspects of the barrier, aspects all three were convinced they had already explained to him. But Asgore and Toriel were grateful for the repeated questions rather than new and complicated ones, so they re-explained without complaint.

With that minefield successfully navigated, Frisk returned to helping Asriel meet the rest of their friends. Her deluge of texts won Alphys the privilege of being first port of call. They kept the meeting at her house, not near the lab where she now worked. Asriel had been insistent, and Frisk wasn't about to defy their parent's wishes on that front. It had been difficult to lay out the whole story, as Alphys kept connecting dots and running away with conclusions and they had to keep her focused on the here and now. Somehow, Asriel's insistence that he forgave her only made her look more dejected. She looked better after Asriel offered a hug, though she stuttered so much she could barely be understood.

The next few introductions were more straightforward. It was Asriel's turn to be uncomfortable around Papyrus, as his interactions with both skeletons were extensive and across the spectrum of friend and foe, but Papyrus was simply delighted that his flower friend had moved to town, and promised to support him whatever he decided to be. Asriel had grown to enjoy his company, but Frisk suggested to cut it short before spaghetti got involved. Undyne had already learned much of Asriel from Asgore, but since she never had a connection to either Asriel or Flowey before that day at New Home, she had no real preconceptions to draw on, and the fact her mentor and girlfriend were so eager to get along with him definitely softened her up. It was a pretty neutral, almost formal introduction, except for the impromptu cooking lesson and the noogies and the guarantee that they'd be sparring when he was a little older, to learn what his dad had taught her. Perhaps a little too intense, but her passion was infectious.

Mettaton put on the show Frisk expected, fawning over both of them and giving Asriel a signed picture, but it was little more than a show. Once the pleasantries passed he didn't seem to have much time for them. To be fair, he had been busy. He and Napstablook cultivated a pretty devoted fanbase among the humans in town, but whenever he tried to push for a record deal, no big labels seemed to return his calls. His experience was the reflection of monsters everywhere. Those who travelled to other towns or even countries discovered surprisingly little reaction beyond those they personally met. No newspaper reports, no government responses, nothing. The monsters were here, and nobody cared. A much better reaction than restarting the war, but still an odd one.

That just left Sans. Asriel kept trying to put it off, though Frisk had trouble understanding this. Frisk had a few less than glowing judgements from Sans on their tally, but he was so laid back and Frisk had been shamed enough to turn over a new leaf pretty quickly. Finally, Asriel admitted when Sans had told Flowey what he suspected of resets, he had heavily implied he knew everything that happened in past timelines. That would explain it. Someone other than Frisk who could really understand the true depths of his actions, even if he had otherwise tried to put that behind him. Whatever Frisk's conduct Underground, Sans never even hinted he could remember, and it hadn't come up in what little time they had spent discussing it with him after the Barrier broke. Still, Frisk was determined to clear the air, so at a nice public spot at Grillby's for everyone's protection, they submitted themselves to his judgement.

"nah."

The two children looked at each other a moment.

"Huh?"

"nah. the whole 'i know everything' shtick? all i ever had was data readings, gut instinct and some guesses. that sans probably made it up. you musta pissed him off, bucko."

"S-so," squeaked Asriel before coughing and starting again. "So you don't remember when-?"

"gonna stop ya from leaving any im- _prince_ on me," he interrupted,  "i don't want anything that technically never happened to harsh my mellow. the kid's learned that in the end, only you can really judge yourself for what you did. you gotta do that too."

"So, so you're okay with me?"

Sans' sockets became black as night. "well... i never said that."

Asriel's chair seemed to be sinking, as his chin approached the table.

"whatever you did with the resets, sounds like you used 'em a lot. kept pulling us back for a long time. tuesdays are bad enough when you have to go through several in a row. not a fan of that."

A long floppy ear was being twisted.

"but," continued Sans, his sockets regaining a twinkle, "that's all done now. no point in getting mad. sounds like you couldn't do it again even if you wanted to, and the kid hasn't been able to do it either. unlikely you'll be able to get my _goat_ anytime soon. besides, sounds like no harm, no foul."

"Uh, y-yeah," breathed Asriel. The twisting was downgraded to scratching.

"don't get me wrong, cap, i ain't sure i trust you. but frisk here's pretty good at calling it. pretty sure i can trust them at least. they did get you to break the barrier after all. can't complain when you grab a problem by the _horns_ like that."

Frisk breathed easy as a smile spread across their face.

"Hey, I don't have horns yet!"

* * *

Harry had done it. Done several things in fact. Felix Felicis was a pebble that started a rockslide, and perhaps almost as good as his direct reward for retrieving the memory had been, one of the nicer facts was he could now discuss preparations for it with both of his friends at the same time.

"Couldn't we make some more?" Ron asked Harry, ignoring Hermione. "It'd be great to have a stock of it... have a look in the book..."

Harry pulled his copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ out of his bag and looked up Felix Felicis.

"Blimey, it's seriously complicated," he said, running an eye down the list of ingredients. "And it takes six months... you've got to let it stew..."

"Typical," said Ron, "nothing useful comes easy."

"That's life, Ron," replied Hermione with a slightly haughty tone, "shortcuts only take you so far. Eventually you have to put the work in."

The barb clearly aimed at Harry bounced off. As far as he was concerned, that was a settled matter. Still, it wouldn't hurt to deflect the issue.

"So, do you think maybe I should do some training? Like in the Tri-Wizard tournament, brush up on spells that might be helpful?"

"If you had all the free time in the world, I'd agree," said Hermione, "but between revising for exams and your Quidditch practice, you can't afford to."

"You'll be alright, mate," said Ron with a lazy shrug. "You remember the stuff we practised back then? And what you taught us at the DA?" Harry nodded. "Well there you go. And remember, you're going with Dumbledore. If he thought you needed to learn anything, he'd have taught you, wouldn't he?"

It was a good point. Neither Harry or Hermione could think of a response. Harry was grateful for his contribution, as Hermione's mention of Quidditch reminded him of a conversation with Dean in his future he was not looking forward to. More to prevent Quidditch coming up as a topic again than anything, he once again thought back to everything he had learned in the last twenty four hours. And it was while doing this that he found a loose thread to pull on...

"Oh yeah, that reminds me. Ebott!"

Both of them looked nonplussed.

"Remember when we tried to figure out what Horcruxes were on our own and the only hint was something the Wizards of Ebott were doing?"

"Wait, what's Ebott?"

Harry had forgotten Ron wasn't there for that conversation. With Hermione actually aware of what he was talking about, they clued Ron in.

"So... what do you reckon they were working on?"

"Well, if Horcruxes are about manipulating the soul, maybe they were working on the soul as well?"

"But what can you do with a soul, Harry? I've never heard of magic like that."

"Well we know one thing you can do with it," he muttered darkly.

"Come to think of it," Ron piped up, "Dad told me once about death curses being really popular in the Middle Ages. You know, you cast a spell, and you literally channel your soul into it. Of course it kills you, but whatever you were doing is now really powerful and difficult to undo. I don't think anybody's done that for centuries. I wouldn't even know how. It's a bit excessive anyway, if you're that mad at someone, might as well as well just kill them."

"That doesn't sound right. The book seemed to think they were doing it for good purposes. Or at least better purposes than a Horcrux. Maybe... they were trying to retrieve a soul from death?"

"Not a productive avenue, I'm afraid," said Hermione. "Necromancy is both one of the oldest branches of magic and the single least fruitful. Wizards are clever at avoiding death, but reversing it is still beyond our reach."

Again, conversing about something not so particularly heavy as the mystery of a vanished community was surprisingly relaxing for Harry. He almost gave voice to the half-baked idea to visit Ebott when-

"Well, what do you reckon when Harry beats You-Know-Who we go and find out what happened there? We're good at mysteries, aren't we?"

Taken aback at how in tune they were with each other on this, Harry laughed. Hermione joined in. Ron looked a little offended.

"What, are you going to insist we do our NEWTs first?"

They laughed even louder.

* * *

The past few months had been wonderful.

After a month or so of home schooling to help him catch up with some things he might be missing, Asriel started going to Toriel's school, naturally winding up in Frisk's class. A little timid, as he had always been, but he was happy to be there, greeting them with a "Howdy!" Surprising no-one, he quickly joined up with and ran around in Frisk's group. Jane, who it transpired had been the one asking Frisk if she could meet the king, soon had the next best thing at lunchtime. Asriel was perhaps a little more timid of her than of the average stranger, but that didn't stop them playing on the swings before long.

Frisk had finally been released from the occasionally tedious routine of breathing exercises and stances. Not only had everyone concluded it would not lead to magic, but Toriel at last had a personal student that could actually benefit from it. And he did. He had fine control of his magic as Flowey, but the practise with his mother was to reacquaint him with his original magic, which initially was a little clumsy from non-use. Before long he was trying to help his mother with cooking. He had burnt everything so far, but Toriel was pleased anyway. Frisk caught themselves doing the breathing exercises anyway. They were good to relieve stress.

With Asgore, the three of them spent a lot of time outdoors. Not necessarily in gardens, but at lakes and in forests and on hiking trails. Asriel didn't seem too interested in just watching TV or anything like that. He could have done that in the Underground, but he couldn't lie back on a boat and watch the clouds float by. Frisk's suggestion of stargazing had been a perfect choice. The first time they did it, Asriel didn't even bother to use the telescope they had brought. He just stared up at the night sky directly. It was almost like he didn't blink. When finally brought back down to Earth, the two kids realised their father had been gazing too, possibly even more awestruck than his son.

Their parents didn't have a monopoly on their free time. Their other friends were forever calling in with stuff to do. Papyrus liked showing off new puzzles he'd concocted. Alphys was showing off new inventions she had devised, though only stuff she could carry, as an unspoken understanding meant she wouldn't take Asriel to her lab. Undyne's threatened training hadn't begun, and Frisk suspected Asgore had ordered a stay of execution, but there was still plenty of exercise even when they were trying to cook something. Mettaton kept trying to invite them to an opera about the King he was writing, but they conveniently made sure their weekends were busy. Sans didn't approach them often, but they saw him around town. No doubt Toriel had asked him to keep an eye on them. On top of that there was movie night every now and then. Everyone tried to keep the contents of the movies from Toriel's ears, but an errant reference to a chainsaw slipped from Papyrus, which put the whole endeavour in jeopardy.

Asriel also had taken to civics in his own way. Monster government was currently limited to someone raising concerns with Toriel or Asgore, and the two of them met to discuss it. Asriel paid rapt attention to these summits. Initially he had been hopelessly lost as he had little frame of reference that wasn't devoid of emotional context, but as he had met his fellow monsters and got to understand them, as opposed to merely knowing them, that context allowed him to feel his way through what everyone was talking about. It wasn't long before he was suggesting things almost as much as Frisk did.

Life was good. It looks like they had managed a happy ending. The weather agreed as spring approached its conclusion.

"Hey, Frisk," asked Asriel one night.

"Hmm?"

"I've been thinking. You know where we should go someday?"

"Where?"

"Britain."

"Britain? Why?"

"Well you know we were studying it in school last week, and it looked like there was lots of cool things to see. London sounds enormous!"

"I didn't think you were a city type. There'd be a lot of humans there. More than in all of Ebott. Would you be, um, okay with that?"

He looked a little apprehensive. "Hmm, that's a good point. But I'm gonna have to meet a lot of humans someday. I know I'm still nervous, but maybe I should just dive in."

The rest of the conversation was talking about all the sights and maybe there were nice forests to walk around in too - not in London anyway - and Frisk had such a good time talking about it, they were almost tempted to suggest it for a holiday in the summer tomorrow. Both went to sleep happy.

A slightly odd dream where Frisk stood in front of the Queen of Britain introducing Asgore in his most flowery Hawaiian shirt was cut short by screaming.

Looking across the room, Asriel's eyes were shut tight as he continued to scream and flail around wildly, tangled in his blanket. Frisk wasn't sure how to approach without being accidentally struck, but before they could move, Asriel fell out of his bed entirely with a loud thud. The flailing stopped, and the screaming was now replaced with crying. Frisk approached and carefully unwrapped Asriel. The fall had awoken him, and his face was buried in his hands.

"As-?"

More thuds. Hurried footsteps. The door swung open and the light clicked on. Toriel had achieved the impressive feat of looking pale under her white fur.

"My child," she called with anguish, "what has happened?!"

She scooped him up and he buried his face in her chest. Patiently she let him sob for several minutes before gently placing him back on his bed. Frisk had thought this might happen, a nightmare about what had happened or what he had done, but it sure took its time. Frisk had been prepared to talk to him about their own nightmares they used to have. Their less than friendly behaviour down there had featured heavily, but also an outstretched green and yellow striped arm they could never reach, and they'd watched helplessly as it was enveloped in vines...

"Was it a nightmare?"

He was taking huge breaths, trying to force himself to be able to speak.

"Y-yes," he spluttered. "I-I was at a castle, and it was night, but there was a green light in the sky, and I looked down and there was an old human lying on the grass and I felt so sad looking at him and I r-realised he... he was-"

It was Frisk's turn to go pale. This was out of the blue. The only castle any of them knew was New Home, and it had no sky. And of the humans Asriel had met about town, few were particularly old. This didn't make sense. Toriel ignored the implications of this story, only bathing in the emotion of it.

"Oh, Asriel!" She cried, sitting down on the bed and hugging him once again. There was another long silence, gently punctuated by sobs.

"Is, is this something you could have watched on television? Or perhaps Papyrus or Undyne showed you something inappropriate?"

"I don't think so, Mom," said Frisk, "we haven't had a movie night with them in a couple of weeks."

Toriel pursed her lips. Frisk knew she would be broaching the subject of movie choice with them regardless. "Hmm. Perhaps we should have a late supper. I still have some pie from dinner. Would you like that?"

The watery green eyes looked up at her, and Asriel nodded. Frisk followed Toriel out the door and Asriel brought up the rear, gently holding onto his locket.

It took an hour, but by the time they finished Asriel was a lot calmer, though understandably withdrawn. Frisk looked on sympathetically. It would be bad enough if he had dreamt about his own experiences, but total strangers? When Toriel suggested they try sleeping again, Frisk took charge. They both gave her a good night hug, Frisk took his hand and led him upstairs.

He twisted his ear nervously. "Can I tell you something? Don't tell Mom yet though."

"...Okay."

"I wasn't finished describing the dream."

"What else did you see?"

"It..." he looked like he regretted this, "it wasn't what I saw, it was what I felt. I saw the... the old man and felt really sad, but I felt something else. It was like it came from somewhere complete different. That's what really scared me."

"What did you feel?"

"...Triumph. Satisfaction. Like I was glad he..."

Asriel looked away in shame. Frisk could appreciate his horror at those feelings. Flowey might have felt that way. They reached out to offer a hug, but he ignored it and climbed into bed. Fortunately by the next morning, he was feeling a lot better.

* * *

Asriel seemed none the worse for his dream, just a little tired the next day. He was reluctant to bring it up when Frisk asked and the conversation was terse, so Frisk dropped the matter. He must still have thought about going abroad, because for the last few weeks of school he worked really hard at geography whenever Toriel taught it. Frisk hadn't broached the holiday idea because the dream had distracted them, and by the time they remembered, Toriel and Asgore's summits had brought up what Mettaton had been discovering: Humanity's baffling indifference to the monsters. Combined with the mystery of human magic, it left them reluctant to leave the town. So it was going to be a summer holiday at home. Toriel suggested making their own contacts with other countries, but Asgore hadn't wanted to jeopardise their relationship with the Governor by going behind his back.

School finally broke up for summer, and it was just as Frisk pictured it. Helping Toriel bake whenever she wasn't tallying up supplies for September. More hikes around the countryside with Asgore. Playing games with their schoolmates. Spending the hotter days with their adult friends, who even with ten months on the surface still liked to stop and just enjoy the sun. Quite a few more movie nights, though the selection appeared to be somewhat tamer than before. Toriel clearly had her say. For the most part, things were still good.

But there were still the dreams.

None had been as visceral as the first, but every few days since then Frisk woke to find Asriel muttering and twisting in bed, clutching his locket, though not flailing so fiercely that Frisk couldn't shake him awake. The contents of the dreams seemed to explain why he hadn't had another screaming fit. He was nearly always in a dark room, with a group of humans paying rapt attention as he said things he could never remember. The humans didn't look very friendly, they put him on edge. Frisk couldn't understand it. Was he imagining some sort of scenario to work through what had happened when he died without directly thinking about it? Who could they ask about it? And because Asriel seemed fine if a little tired in the mornings after this happened, it was hard to talk to Asgore or Toriel about it, like they were jumping at shadows.

And the dreams had other side effects. Asriel had been intensely nervous around other people when he first returned, but that started to diminish under the patient exposure of his friends. But now it was picking back up. Not with his friends or family, but it was most pronounced with the humans around town. Not that he strove to avoid them, but he never spoke to them unless prompted. He even looked uncomfortable around Jane, and Frisk didn't miss how he tried not to be alone with her. Also when Asgore reported that Mrs Snowbunny's shop had been broken into and the till raided, Asriel had been the one to note that a couple of rougher kids from school liked hanging out nearby. A short investigation had unveiled airtight alibis for both of them and Asriel apologised profusely to everyone for two days, but his parents assured him it's fine to rule people out. Still, after that he didn't seem as interested in speaking up at summits, like it had shattered his confidence.

Frisk's only remedy was to keep Asriel exposed to others, human and monster, and to act as a bridge. This helped somewhat for a while, but it a night's interrupted sleep was all it took for it to reappear. And on top of that every now and then he'd say he was going to have some time to himself and wander about town. When Frisk pressed, he admitted that after so long alone, he was used to it, and the onrush of affection could be overwhelming. It wasn't the biggest concern, he was happy and enthusiastic otherwise, but they fretted about what may happen if Asriel withdrew into himself.

Finally, towards the end of July, Asriel had another screaming fit. Frisk watched as he flailed wildly on his bed. Before they could do anything, the door crashed open and Asgore hurried in. With surprising precision he scooped Asriel up without being struck once and held him tight, like he had been practising this. The screaming stopped, a couple of shuddering breaths, and then sobbing replaced it. Asgore moved at once, beckoning Frisk along to the kitchen so he could prepare some hot chocolate. Asriel clutched tight as his father supported him in one hand and a kettle in the other, heating it with his bare hand.

"It's alright, Son," he whispered as he gently set Asriel on a chair next to Frisk, who promptly found their hand being squeezed very tight. "Do you wish to talk about it?"

Asriel's eyes darted as he twisted his ear. "I." A swallow and a breath. "I was in the room again. And there was an old human l-lying on the floor."

Frisk perked up. "Was it the same one you saw at the castle?"

"No. He was smaller. And h-he was alive. I knew because he was sc-screaming. He was screaming and I was shouting at him and I just felt so angry and I think I... I was... hurting him..."

All sound from the worktop halted, and Frisk took the responsibility of hug-giver. Asriel duly rested his head on their shoulder. Before long, three soft taps meant Asgore had delivered. He looked unusually serious.

"I want to say," he began, "that it was just a dream. That it was not real. That you never did that. That you never would. But I won't."

Asriel looked puzzled, and maybe even a little put out. So far his mother or Frisk had been the first responder to his dreams, and their reaction was always one of unconditional support, so this was a new experience for both children. Frisk watched him scratch his ear. "Why won't you say that?"

"Because it doesn't change the fact that you dreamed it. You remember doing it. And therefore it doesn't matter if it is real or not. You are affected as though it was real."

"But Dad," said Frisk, "isn't it better to realise it didn't happen? I mean, I remember you meeting the President of France in your pyjamas, but I don't get embarrassed by it." This solicited a watery chuckle.

"True," replied Asgore with a smile, "but the reason I bring this up now is in case you dream of things that actually happened."

The air grew heavy for a moment. Asriel was halfway through sipping his chocolate, but put it down sharply on the table, spilling a little.

"Son, I have been preparing for you to dwell on your past in one form or another, and dreams would be a likely candidate. It just so happens that this anticipation may serve us well tonight, even if it is not for the intended purposes."

Frisk was impressed. They hadn't thought Asgore to be one to think so deeply on this. But come to think of it, it had been Asgore who had first tried to coax their own nightmares out of them before Toriel had. Asgore had picked up on signs that weren't midnight screaming, which Frisk had never done.

"But D-dad," squeaked Asriel, "how do you know about these type of dreams and whether they're real or-?"

"Because... because I know how it feels."

The great shoulders slumped. The life seemed to slip from his eyes. Both children looked on. He blinked rapidly and shook his head.

"I dreamed of them frequently. Daily at first, every time, but as the years passed it lessened. At the time I had my duty to uphold, so I coped through sheer resolve. However that duty is now discharged." He looked at Asriel with warm pride.

"Do you still-?"

"Yes."

"When was the last-?"

"Please don't ask, I shan't have you worry on my behalf."

"But then, how do you deal with them?"

"Ultimately, with time. There are no quick or easy solutions. You must cultivate an understanding of yourself. I know the part of me that did what I did. I regret it deeply, but I understand that this part of me still exists. And only with that understanding have I begun to build acceptance over what happened. Accept every part of you, Asriel. The parts that have done bad things, or merely seen bad things. This robs them of their sting. Pretending they don't exist means they will insist on making themselves known. Only with understanding and acceptance can you recover."

Asriel looked confused. "So I have to accept that I had a dream where I hurt someone even though I didn't hurt them? I don't get it."

"Well," mused Asgore, "if that fails, you could remember that it wasn't real and didn't happen."

Asriel looked just as confused, but now he laughed. Frisk didn't join in.

"Why talk about all that stuff if you were just going to say what Mom would?"

"Well, I had been hoping to raise it with you regardless. I still think it could help in this case, but if you ever dwell on things you know happened, remember my words. And talk to someone about it if you can. Running away from it won't solve anything."

The conversation became more light hearted as Asriel showed off the beard and moustache he could bestow on himself with the chocolate, and Frisk reminded Asgore to be careful with the marshmallows. It didn't take long for Frisk to lead Asriel to bed. And sure enough in the morning he was fine, if a little more tired than usual. While they waited on Papyrus to come round so they could go to his house and look at his latest puzzles, Asgore gave them tea, looking pleased at his son's improved spirits.

"Remember," he said, shortly before the door would be banged on loudly, "the worst lies we tell are to ourselves. When it comes to yourself, you must not tell lies."

* * *

_I must not tell lies._

The words glared at the Minister for Magic for a second time, and Rufus Scrimgeour's face hardened. He promptly left the living room, causing quite the commotion on his way out of the house.

"What did he want?" Mr Weasley asked, looking around at Harry, Ron and Hermione, as Mrs Weasley came hurrying back to them.

"To give us what Dumbledore left us," said Harry. "They've only just released the contents of his will."

At the birthday party, everyone was suitably impressed and intrigued by what Dumbledore had chosen to bequeath the three of them, though none of them could understand why he had done so. Fred suggested maybe the _Tales of Beedle the Bard_ had a top secret spell in a code. Harry would have liked that to be true, but a glance at Hermione's reaction to this suggestion betrayed her scepticism, and he was inclined to agree. If a specific spell was crucial for defeating Voldemort, surely Dumbledore would have taught it, or at least made Harry aware of it. Why would he be so cryptic about it? Then again, he was cryptic about a lot of things. Still, Ron was enjoying himself talking with his brothers about it, so Harry offered no opinion one way or the other. Out of concern for how unprepared he felt for what was coming, a thought had occurred to him that he raised with Mr Weasley.

"I know Rufus Scrimgeour has been more concerned with Dumbledore than the Death Eaters..."

"Now, Harry, I don't think-"

"...but what about wizards in other countries? Could the Ministry be contacting them for help?"

He gave a world weary sigh as he rubbed his glasses. "Well of course. It was one of his first ports of call after his appointment. It's been the Department for International Magical Cooperation's top priority ever since."

Harry felt like he was pushing his luck at asking him to recount how badly the Ministry seemed to be failing these days, but he wanted to know. "And?"

"Well, you have to understand. Fudge's refusal to acknowledge the problem for a year has not only been terrible for this country. The connections and gold of the likes of Lucius Malfoy don't stop at the coast, and it's not only giants that You-Know-Who has been reaching out to. It's complicated - different Ministries have different structures and different priorities - but the upshot is those who hold stock in Blood Purity have a lot more sway these days than they might have a few years ago. Perhaps not enough for a takeover, but enough to stay their hand beyond platitudes or promises to send us a note if they sight him."

"The French Ministry wasn't too bad, Dad," added Bill, "Fleur told me about it. Turns out Madame Maxine has quite a bit of influence."

"Yes, you're right," he nodded, "but still, the sort of uniting that is the best weapon against You-Know-Who is really hard to pull off while everybody is concerned about the rise of his influence and are looking out for themselves. Divide and conquer." He pursed his lips. "There was something else too."

His son and his two friends leaned in. "Really? What?"

"Well, that's the thing, we don't know. With everybody stuck between containing You-Know-Who's influence and maybe trying to do something about him, a few Ministries have hinted at another crisis. It started a couple of months after Scrimgeour took office. We've had to write them off entirely with regards to seeking aid. Last I heard they said it was a threat to Wizarding Secrecy itself, but I'll be blighted if anybody here knows what it is. We're drowning in our own problems."

"That's all we need," moaned Ron, "imagine the Muggles getting involved."

"Well maybe they should, Ron," said Hermione. "It's not like they'll be safe if Voldemort takes over." She studiously ignored the flinching around the table.

"Yes, well," said Mr Weasley, "I'm not saying that's the worst idea. But if seeking help from our fellow Wizards for a direct magical threat has been hard enough, imagine trying to renegotiate the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy under such instability. That is settled law, and it would be a nightmare to bring it up again."

"Arthur dear, do you really need to bring all this up now? This is a party for Harry's Birthday!" Mrs Weasley looked at the group of moodkillers with a flash of steel.

"Sorry, Molly."

The conversation broke up sharply under such an assault, even though it had been the guest of honour who wanted to pursue it. After a hasty chorus of 'Happy Birthday' and much gulping of cake, the party broke up. Harry packed his Moleskin pouch with his prized possessions, and soon found himself alone with Ron and Hermione. The conversation was naturally about their gifts from Dumbledore and how they might use them, and a moment of excitement as Harry had manipulated his snitch into revealing another mystery, but even under this slight bit of progress, the implications of Mr Weasley's view of international diplomacy made him feel really alone.

Even as they finally went to bed, Harry felt like nobody should be alone when facing such things. Even though he had already done this quite a lot.

* * *

That night, it was Frisk's turn for an odd dream.

It was a black void. They looked around. There was no wall, no ceiling, they weren't even standing on anything. They brought their hand up to their face, but saw nothing. This blackness was absolute. They weren't even sure they had hands, it was so dark. The only evidence of anything existing was the sound of a howling wind. That and a voice which felt... familiar.

_You know..._

"I know what?"

_There is a shadow over him._

"...Asriel?"

_Yes._

"I can't help him deal with Flowey until he-"

_It isn't Flowey._

"What?"

_He hasn't even begun. It won't let him._

"Begun to what? What won't?"

_It gives him a dream. But the price will be too high._

"...What can I do?"

_Help him wake up. For me._

"Wait, for you? Who-"

Frisk felt themselves being shaken. Their eyes jerked open and stared into green ones.

"Golly, it's not often I get to wake you," said Asriel, smiling. He had mistaken Frisk's vague unease for grogginess. "Mom says breakfast is ready!"

The vague unease was all that lingered by the time Frisk entered the kitchen. And Asriel's enthusiasm for their plans that day erased even this.


	3. The Thieves

As summer continued, Frisk began looking forward to school starting again. Not because they missed homework or were sick of free time, but their summer had been even more action packed than they intended, and even their determination had to yield to how tired they were. A bit of monotony might actually be a nice change. And for Asriel as well.

The problem was that the dreams shifted up a gear after their hot chocolate conference with Asgore. They were still happening every few days, but many of had become more intense. There was never the full blown screaming of the earlier nightmares, but interrupted sleep was a regular occurrence. And their contents weren't happy. Asriel described walking along paths in desperate search of something, and more dreams where he was full of anger and in front of humans cowering before him. True to Asgore's advice, Frisk always encouraged him to tell what the dreams had been about, but once he did so it was hard to bring a previous dream up again. This seemed to be Asriel's attempt to accept he had a bad dream, by putting it behind him. But Frisk worried he was rationalising his running away from them.

They confided in Asgore about how regularly this was happening. They also volunteered their idea that maybe they were Asriel's ways of thinking about Flowey without actually thinking about him. Asgore took it seriously, and had taken Asriel aside one evening where it was just the two of them. Asgore had reported to Frisk and Toriel later that he had tried to coax talk of Flowey out of Asriel, but he had become so agitated and clearly upset that Asgore couldn't bare it, and had relented. He apologised for his cowardice, though Toriel felt he had nothing to apologise for on this occasion, since she could not have even broached the subject. His understanding, so powerful that night, was deceived by the unsuspecting goodness of his heart.

And the dreams took their toll. Asriel was still a pretty engaged participant in whatever he was doing, but he started to be more easily distracted. His timidity had grown more pronounced, especially with humans. He still tried not to be alone with Jane, for no reason Frisk could pick up on. Mercifully this wasn't an absolute rule. One day they were climbing trees, and she fell, and with her heavier weight came off worse than a monster would have. To Frisk's relief and delight, Asriel didn't hesitate to help her up and find his mother, who fixed her up in a jiffy. In spite of everything, it was still him. After the emergency however, he seemed to remember himself and didn't try to strengthen the bond any further.

He still had his lone wanderings, but Frisk wondered if they were good for him. If there was a time where they were together and doing nothing, Asriel seemed to get deeply lost in thought, and Frisk hadn't liked how he reacted when coaxed out of his thoughts. He was probably finally truly thinking about Flowey, and Frisk wanted to help him, but their own gentle prodding had been rebuffed as firmly as Asgore's. So Frisk, not liking these funks Asriel found himself in, fell into the same trap and resolved to keep Asriel busy. This is why their activities had picked up and were starting to wear Frisk out. Keeping Asriel busy and happy and reminding him of those who were there to support him was something of a fulltime job. A fun fulltime job, at least on most days, but maybe focusing on schoolwork for a while would be a more productive way to do this.

When Frisk talked to Toriel about these funks and the wanderings, she surprised him by revealing she had been keeping a tab on him by pretty much everyone in town reporting back to her. Although she didn't use the title, being a former Queen gave her a lot of influence. From her network, she'd learned Asriel had not done anything alarming. A lot of walking and sitting with himself in the quieter parts of town, and as long as that remained the case she felt she had no right to pry any further. Frisk had reservations, but Toriel insisted that you had to give people room to figure some things out. This was something she admitted she wasn't good at herself.

And it wasn't like Asriel was miserable. The dreams and difficulty sleeping were no fun for anyone, but when you coaxed him just right he was still the kind and surprisingly excitable boy his parents knew. He just had more baggage. More than most realised. Frisk wondered if maybe in their previous attempts to save him, they had projected just a little, just as Asriel had once done. They had long ago learned that none of their friends were perfect, and if that applied to anyone it applied to Asriel, even if his misdeeds technically never happened. Now they were facing evidence of this for the first time, they immediately jump to the conclusion something was wrong? They felt bad for thinking that way. But even with their second guessing, the timidity and tendency to withdraw were worrisome, only a little more worrisome than a habit of being overly cheerful with his friends, as if to reassure them everything was fine. Papyrus of course was completely assuaged.

Fortunately there were other things to look forward to besides school. The anniversary of the barrier breaking was in September, and Asgore had been pulled into an informal committee to plan a party or festival which seemed to have spawned out of thin air. As Toriel's school was still overwhelmingly monster-attended and not yet formally licensed, she had the leeway to delay the school opening until after the anniversary ("Just this once."), which definitely lifted Asriel's spirits more organically than his own efforts. And the whole town felt the growing excitement. About a week after learning of their extended holidays, the two children met their father heading to the committee, and decided to accompany him. Asriel's spirits remained high for another ten minutes.

"Asgore!"

The three of them turned around. Muffet was scuttling towards them.

"I need to- oh, hello, dearies- I need to show you this!"

She led them round the corner to her shop. The door was opened, but on closer inspection the lock was totally demolished.

"Oh my goodness!" said Asgore, frowning. "Was anything taken?"

"Yes. The till was emptied, the Arachniae Amphitheatre tip jar was smashed, and all our spider croissants were snatched."

"That is dreadful," he said, "thank you for telling me, I shall contact the Snowbunnys to help you file an insurance claim."

"Oh, I did that already," she said, "but what I want to know is who did it?"

"Hey," said Frisk, "didn't Mom say the Snowbunnys' lock was smashed like that? Could it be the same person who robbed them as well?"

"Oh, you've a sharp memory, dearie." Her fang filled smile pointed at Frisk approvingly. "It was all the talk among us shopkeepers. Of course, that makes it almost certain it's the same person!"

A white quivering shape on the edge of both their visions caught their attention. Asriel was clinging to Asgore's leg.

"Son, is something wrong? Do, erm, do you have any idea who may have done this?" His eyes widened as he looked at his father, and his ears flopped as his head shook fiercely.

"Ah, that's a shame," said Muffet, "not to worry, I'm sure the old Royal Guards will catch them. But if you have any ideas, deary, you'll let me know?"

He gave a small nod of the head. They left the shop to continue their journey, but they didn't get far before Asgore stopped again.

"Asriel," he asked, "is everything alright?"

"Huh? Oh, s-sure."

"Then why were you so silent in front of Muffet? Are you sure you know nothing about the robberies?"

"Yes I am!" he cried, scratching his ear. "I have no idea! I j-just didn't want to say anything that m-might make you think I was accusing someone, after..."

"Ah," nodded Asgore, "I appreciate your caution Son, but there is no need to beat yourself up."

"I, I just don't want anyone to get in trouble because of me."

"If anyone gets in trouble, it will be for their own actions, not yours."

Asriel didn't look particularly reassured, and though he didn't fall back on wandering around on his own, his activities with Frisk that day were subdued. A surprise cooking lesson from Undyne helped shake his nerves, if not the nerves of her neighbours when the explosions started, and thankfully the day ended on a happier note. The next day however, they were to discover that Asriel's silence hadn't helped. They were with the rest of their friends in the park, playing hide and seek, and Snowy had just started counting when a voice rang out.

"Hey, you!"

It was the two kids Asriel had inadvertently accused of breaking into the Snowbunny shop, a human and a bear monster. On both robberies Asgore had taken his son's thoughts in strictest confidence, but it looked like word had gotten out regardless.

"We heard about the Spider Bakery, and we wanna set things straight. We never did this one either! You can ask our parents."

"Nobody's accusing you, Lance," called back Jane.

"Shut up! We were talking to the wannabe prince."

Frisk saw Asriel freeze at these words, but to everyone's surprise, Lance walked right past him and instead rested an accusatory finger on Frisk's chest.

"You think just because your Dad's the King you can accuse whoever you like? There are rules in Ebott you know, you can't just take somebody's say so!"

Frisk wasn't feeling particularly threatened. Surviving against Undyne who is trying her utmost to kill you tends to adjust your threat assessment. "I never said you or Ursk broke into that shop, and I dunno who-"

"Liar!" yelled Ursk, now joining his friend. "I saw you twitch there. You must have done it. You were mad we teased you about your dumb sweater!"

They had actually been annoyed about it. Papyrus worked hard on the _COOL HUMAN_ sweater as a present. Still, probably best to take the heat for this than risk them turning on Asriel. "Well even if I did say it back then, I'm sorry you went through that trouble. I know you didn't do it, and I haven't said anything today."

"And it's gonna stay that way if you-"

"Come on guys," Monsterkid stepped up, equally unintimidated, "Frisk said they haven't said anything, lay off them."

"Butt out of this!" Lance gave him a shove. This normally would topple someone over, but Monsterkid was now adept at using his tail as a third leg or counterweight to prevent this. Tripping without someone else being involved had gotten boring. Ursk decided to solve the problem directly and, with a sweeping kick, cleared his tail from the ground. Now he fell. His assailants whooped and jeered.

"That's just a taste if you go round spreading stories! Come on, Ursk." They ran off.

As soon as they were clear, a white blur raced past Frisk. Asriel was now by Monsterkid's side, helping him up. He was trembling, and Frisk knew he was on the verge of apologising.

"Thanks, As. Just a little dirty. My mom's gonna have to wash these."

Bob Junior offered to buy everyone spider donuts, and that did cheer everyone up, though Asriel still looked withdrawn. Frisk opted to cut the day short after making sure Monsterkid got home safely.

* * *

"I am still surprised a monster would bully another monster like that," said Toriel, "but it sounds like you were very brave, my child."

"On the bright side Mom, if monsters and humans can be bullies together, it's a sign we can definitely live together."

She smiled. "I suppose there is something in that. And Asriel, I'm pleased you did not hesitate to help someone in need. That has always been you at your best. Why, I remember when you brought home..."

The praise ran out of steam. Mother and Son looked at each other, full of understanding. Frisk understood too, even if they had never quite pierced that relationship.

"But Mom," said Asriel, "he only got picked on because I made a mistake and accused them of stealing!"

"Do not think that way. You noticed something, and we ruled it out. That's normal when investigating anything. Perhaps if Lance and Ursk were not so unpleasant to their fellow children they would not feel so uncomfortable when subjected to scrutiny."

Dinner was a subdued meal that night. Asriel was still withdrawn, though he mercifully responded to Frisk talking about their plans tomorrow. Plans that had to be modified by Toriel reminding them she hoped to prepare their own school supplies tomorrow, so there was plenty of time to get replacements. Despite the quiet conclusion to the day, it had been eventful enough to get Frisk to sleep pretty quickly.

The next morning was pretty pleasant. Toriel took the children to the shops to get new schoolbags, especially one for Asriel, who had used a spare one of Frisk's since he had returned. Then they went round to Grillby's for lunch, where Sans happened to be. Frisk was pleased that while Toriel and Sans got the most out of lunch, at least in laughter, Asriel wasn't nearly as nervous as when they had first talked to Sans. It was a relief he could get over something at least. On their way home, they saw Lance and Ursk. Toriel stiffened in disapproval, clearly in half a mind to confront them for the previous day's encounter, but then her expression softened. Frisk noticed Lance was limping, and they were both covered in scrapes and cuts.

"Children, what has happened?"

Ursk knew what tone to use with the Queen. "We were riding our bikes, and Lance's front wheel fell off and he crashed. And then I crashed into him too.

"Oh dear, that is terrible!" Without hesitation she rested her hands on them. Frisk watched the scrapes and cuts close over, and the looks of discomfort on their faces fade away. Lance felt his ankle, and it was clear it didn't hurt any more.

"Th-thank you."

"Are your bicycles alright?"

"I don't think so. Crashing twisted their frames, I don't know if they can be fixed."

"I see. Well, that is unfortunate."

From her tone Frisk knew she wanted to bring up yesterday, but had ultimately decided they'd been punished enough. Asriel looked on and unmistakably felt sorry for them too. That was what Frisk liked about him.

* * *

Over the last few days, Harry's situation had deteriorated dramatically. The fair weather Ministry had finally fallen, and in the process cut him off from those friends and allies who would really want to help him. They barely made it to a place of safety, and despite stumbling onto a lead for a Horcrux, he ended up driving off his only remaining mentor over a stupid argument. And to top it off his doubts about Dumbledore had not been assuaged at all. It was a mercy he had someone to vent his frustrations on, even if at that moment he wasn't the one doing the venting.

"Perhaps just one more, Master Harry, for luck?"

Ron laughed.

"We need him conscious, Kreacher, but if he needs persuading you can do the honours." said Harry.

"Thank you very much, Master."

The four returned to looking down at the man in the chair, the stink of tobacco irritating their noses.

"When you stripped this house of all the valuables you could find, you took a bunch of stuff from the kitchen cupboard. There was a locket there. What did you do with it?"

"Why?" asked Mundungus. "Is it valuable?"

"You've still got it!" cried Hermione.

"No, he hasn't," said Ron shrewdly. "He's wondering whether he could have gotten more for it."

"More? That wouldn't 've been effin' difficult. Bloody lost the effin' thing, didn't I?"

The anticipation Harry had felt towards getting a solid answer was swirling away into horror.

"You, you lost it? How? Where?"

"Bloody Ebott."

Nobody had expected this answer.

"Ebott? The country?" Ron prodded. "What the hell were you doing there?"

"Let me get me pipe an' I'll tell you."

Harry glanced over at Kreacher, who clearly did not think much of this proposal. To prevent an unjustified assault, he raised a halting hand at Kreacher, and nodded at Mundungus Fletcher. In spite of being before the most wanted wizard in the country, he actually relaxed his posture a little as he extracted his pipe and begun to puff, without needing a light.

"Right. First thing is, when I got back from 'ere, I 'ad to take stock of what I 'ad, em, 'acquired'. Check for curses 'n' stuff like that. 'course, you Order lot had already cleared out the worst of it, so it didn't take long. Anyway, there was a few old books in the private study, wasn't there? Thought a collector might give a few Galleons for 'em. Fat chance, they was all preserved letters and junk of the Black family goin' back a few centuries. Buncha poncy gits would think that was worth keepin', wouldn't they?"

"But you found something interesting there, didn't you?" guessed Harry.

"Hah! You was always a sharp one, Potter. Anyway, there was a letter addressed to one Mister Commodus Black a few 'undred years ago. I didn't give a monkey's about what it said, but there was an address. An 'ouse in Ebott."

"And why would that interest someone like you?" asked Ron.

"Come on, lad! You know about the mystery of Ebott? Where'd all the wizards go and stuff?" They nodded. "Well, I gots to thinkin', there was a wizarding house that maybe nobody's been to in living mem'ry. Maybe it 'ad answers."

"Answers that someone might pay a pretty penny for. Or just trinkets that someone might pay an even prettier penny for," barbed Hermione. "It would probably make what you got for cleaning out Grimmauld Place look like a pittance."

"That's a good girl, you get it!" agreed Mundungus. "So I got to figurin', it's a nice time of year. Maybe time for a little holiday."

"Why would you take the locket with you?"

"Well..." he actually looked a little unsure, "I 'ad a good feelin' about that one. Figured the right buyer would hand me an effin' huge sack of galleons for it. So I didn't wanna risk it bein' nicked."

Harry pondered this answer. From what he recalled of the diary and Ginny, he wasn't sure this reasoning was entirely of Mundungus Fletcher's doing.

"So off I go. Got a portkey to France an' enjoyed the seaside air as I travelled along the coast. Ebott's a tiny place, up on a plateau in the Alps, sandwiched between France 'n' Italy 'n' Switzerland. More of a principality than anythin'."

"Why didn't you go directly to Ebott?"

"What, an' give the game away? 'Excuse me mistress Ministry Witch, may I please have a portkey to somewhere Wizards 've 'ad no reason to travel to for three 'undred years?' An' then there's the other mystery about it."

"What mystery?"

"It's... it's like your school, innit? You can't apparate to Ebott. You just fall on your arse if you try. Gotta go as a muggle for the final leg."

Mundungus was enjoying himself as he recounted this story. The rapt attention his audience were paying was certainly part of it.

"Right. So I finally make it. Head over to the remains of an' old town. The muggle buildings were all stumps by the road. But there was one building not by muggles, and it looked much better. I got my cursebreakin' kit-"

"-Your crowbar-"

"-an' my magical artifact transportation equipment-"

"-a large sack-"

"-an' that's when an effin' car turns up with flashin' lights. One of them bloody auror-types."

"A policeman?"

"Yeah, them. What're the odds, eh? An' they was suspicious because I looked like I was goin' to break into somewhere, even though they couldn't see anything worth breakin' into. Well I smoothed things over an' they left, but I was feelin' more cautious now. I figured it's best to scout the place before I go and get locked up by muggles. But it were pretty late in the day though, and I didn't wanna spring for an 'otel, so I thought I'd look for a cave to have a kip in an' try the next day. An' so I walk round the big Mountain. Mount Ebott, they call it. There was some caves higher up, but I'm not athletic enough for that." He took a long draught of his pipe. "Luckily for my delicate lungs, there was a cave round the opposite side of the mountain only a little ways off the path. As caves go, it was pretty comfy. It also 'ad a mystery of its own."

"What do you mean?"

"There was an' ole at the back. Led down to a whole system of caves an' junk. But there was something shimmering just beyond the rim. It was definitely magical. I tried castin' a few spells on it, but it didn't budge. I thought it might be worth a finder's fee at least. First thing's first however, I needed me shut eye. So I take off me coat and the locket and conjure a few pillows an' I doze off. An' that's when the earthquake hit."

"An earthquake?"

"That's what I said. There was fallin' rocks an' a lot of shakin' an' it woke me up, and I look over at the hole an all sorts of light is comin' out of it and then there was a loud CRACK, an' all the light was gone. The place was still shakin', an' I didn't wanna get buried when I couldn't apparate, so I ran outside. But I forgot the bleedin' locket! I was able to look back in and see it glitter just as it shook over the edge! Bah, probably the best find I 'ad in years and I lose it!"

The story was over. Harry didn't like the ending, and tried to flesh it out. "Why didn't you try and get it back with a summoning charm or something?"

"After that light show? Nah, it's above me pay grade to mess with anythin' like that. The whole thing was a bad job, so I just moved on with pawnin' the family silver."

"Not your own family's silver," retorted Hermione.

He shrugged. "Gotta eat, don't I?"

"When do you reckon you were there?" asked Ron. "How long ago was it?"

"Oh, it were about September last."

Almost a year. The locket could still be down there, beyond magic they had no understanding of. Or anyone could have taken it. The mere effort of attempting to find it incurred terrible risks. But still. It was a solid fact in a quest that was languishing for the lack of them.

"We have to go there. We have to find it."

To his mild surprise. Ron and Hermione nodded without objection.

"'ere, if you wanna sell it, can I get a finder's fee?"

A tiny patter of feet and a metallic clang, and Mundungus now clutched his shin while howling in pain.

* * *

The preparation for their journey took a few weeks. It wasn't just supplies, for which Kreacher's ability to go about unnoticed was a lifesaver, but information. Hermione would use the Invisibility Cloak and her Muggle money to buy maps and guide books of the area, and the mountain itself. One day she announced she came back from a Muggle library and had looked up newspapers from the previous year. Sure enough there had been reports of a minor localised quake in the Ebott region about the time Mundungus had said. Their route was laid out. They would examine the mountain itself first, and if they didn't find it they had pressed Mundungus for the location of the Wizarding building, in case there were any clues there.

They also packed and repacked Hermione's beaded bag. Both boys were amazed when she pulled out a tent from the bag. The same tent they had stayed in for the Quidditch World Cup. Ron joked about Hermione literally having the kitchen sink in there, and she smiled appreciatively. Kreacher was able to collect a few wizarding trinkets from Diagon Alley, while the three of them took turns buying more mundane equipment from Muggle shops. Harry toyed with the idea of asking Kreacher to make a withdrawal from his vault at Gringotts, so they'd have a small money supply if it was necessary, but Hermione overruled this. According to the Daily Prophet, the Ministry was now concerned about irregularities at Gringotts and was exerting more control, and since the Ministry and the Death Eaters were the same thing, it was almost certain that there would be vaults they would pay close attention to if they were accessed. They might even have seized the contents of it. Harry felt indignant at the idea, less about them taking the money and more about taking what his parents had left him.

As their material preparations reached completion, Hermione decided to add to their magical preparations. Harry felt like he was back in Charms class as she ran through a list of advanced protective spells and charms that were useful when out in the open. They weren't particularly difficult, especially when six months of teaching the DA had reinforced Harry's knack for picking up new spells, but they weren't on the standard Hogwarts curriculum. What was harder to pull off was the Order's trick of sending messages with a patronus. Harry's was so large he had to be careful where he conjured one, and unlike Hermione's otter and Ron's terrier, he couldn't send it up and down the house. His message was hard to make out as well.

As August drew to a close, they felt ready. At dinner that night, as they discussed the Prophet's announcement that Snape was now Headmaster of Hogwarts with venom, Hermione was checking three different lists for the fourth time.

"...and we have a fourth bottle of dittany, that should mean we don't have to risk using healing spells too often. I think I have enough foreign currency to take us to Ebott at least. In a pinch we could apparate to a tourist place and change out some more, but I'd rather not risk doing it in London. We have ropes and pegs if we ever need to climb into or out of something, makes sense for a cave, so..."

"Harry?"

"Yeah, Ron?"

"What about when we need to come back?"

Harry and Hermione looked at him.

"Well, getting out of the country is easy enough. Seems like You-Know-Who doesn't give a monkey's right now if you're leaving. Less Muggleborns for him to deal with. But when we're done at Ebott, do you reckon he'll be keeping an eye on who comes back?"

Hermione looked thoughtful. "That's a good point, Ron. Obviously a lot of our transportation options are out of the question. Floo Powder and Portkeys for instance. We could try Muggle transportation, but it's hard to know if there will be Ministry Agents at the ports."

Harry was somewhat bemused. "Well why don't we just apparate? Not from Ebott or anything like that, just reach the Channel and hop over? We've apparated farther than that."

"That's true, Harry. But the thing is, ever since we overheard those Ministry Wizards talking about the taboo on V-"

"Watch it, Hermione!"

"Sorry, Ron. Force of habit. Anyway, with You-Know-Who making it really easy to trace certain magical occurrences, I was wondering if he'd have the Ministry do something like make such a magical disturbance when someone apparates from outside the country. And while it would be really hard to pinpoint our location, it makes returning pretty dicey."

Harry hadn't considered this. "Why wouldn't he just do that for everyone who apparates, even if it's in the country already? He could round up the Order in a pinch."

"It's complicated. For one thing to track every apparition in the country would require an immensely complicated spell and a lot of power. But it's also something about being able to measure ambient magical power within the country and how it suddenly changes as new wizards arrive. I think that's how Hogwarts knows when a wizard or witch is born."

"Is that even possible?"

"I don't know. But the taboo was pretty clever, and if the Death Eaters are going to regulate entry into the country, it's worth it for them to at least try."

"Why'd you bring it up anyway, Ron?"

Ron's ears went pink. "Well, it's just that. If anything happened, my family's on the front line, and we might not be able to get back..."

Hermione gasped. Harry felt that familiar drooping sensation in his stomach. Once again he was asking his friends to give everything up.

"Listen. If you-"

"We're going, Harry." Her response was almost lazy.

"Yeah, mate. I'm worried about them, but I knew what I was getting into with you. Not like I could do much if I went back now. And they're on the front line now anyway. Dad alone guarantees that."

"Well, maybe we should try and locate the other Horcruxes before-"

"And have you figured anything out since we last talked about this?"

He racked his brains. They had made attempts to look up possible hiding places for the others, but had come up short. Only Hogwarts and Gringotts seemed viable, but with Harry's instincts being the sole supporter of either location, it wasn't enough for Hermione. Defeated, he shook his head.

"Then we may as well track the locket down. Besides, I think just because it's relatively easy to leave the country now, that doesn't mean it'll always be the case. If we have to look abroad, best to do it as soon as possible."

"There's that brain again," said Ron brightly, "thinking of problems and how to get past them-"

"I've got it!"

"Harry?"

"Kreacher!"

A crack, and the ancient elf appeared on the table, in his freshly laundered pillow case.

"Master Harry called Kreacher?" he croaked. "Does he require any assistance before his journey tomorrow?"

"Not at the moment, Kreacher. I'd just like to ask a question."

"Of course, sir."

"You can guide humans through apparition, right?"

"Yes, master."

"How many?"

"As many as master allows."

"So if we were in, say, the Alps, and I called for you, you could bring us back here?"

"It would be Kreacher's pleasure."

"Harry, that's- that's brilliant!" cried Hermione. "They won't be looking for house elf magic. It's beneath their notice where house elves go! It's how Kreacher's still here, after all."

"Good thinking, mate."

"Thanks. And come to think of it," he continued. ", I have a few instructions for you while we're away."

"Kreacher is listening."

"First, and this is the most important, if I call for you, I order you to make sure you are absolutely alone and not being touched by anyone before coming to me. Right now we don't want anyone following you."

A deep bow. "Kreacher will ensure nobody follows him. Does Master Harry wish Kreacher to bring him and his friends food while they travel?"

"Actually..." Harry felt on thin ice here. "...not right now. We've packed loads of food already. But if I do ask, again please make sure you're alone when bringing it."

"Of course, sir. Kreacher will ensure Master Harry will not go hungry."

"And finally, if anything happens to this house, make sure you get away safely. And once you're safe, come to us and let us know, so we can make other plans."

"Yes, Master." Another deep bow, and he disappeared with a crack.

Ron's red eyebrows rose a little. "Are you sure you don't want him to feed us? He seemed eager."

"I don't want to risk it, Ron. If he's constantly popping back and forth, somebody might notice. I just wanted to make sure the option is available if we need it."

"Thank you for not burdening him too much, Harry."

Ron saw that look on her face, and gave up.


	4. The Unexpected Town

The next morning, after a small breakfast, their journey began. Ron and Hermione apparated to a field in Kent under the invisibility cloak, before Ron went back with the cloak to fetch Harry. Harry had insisted on this order, so in case the figures who monitored Grimmauld Place chose that moment to discover them, Ron and Hermione at least would get away. Fortunately their flight from London went off without a hitch. From their field, they then went to Dover. Hermione then took the lead for the next leg of the trip, as they were headed to the town in France she'd gone to on holiday with her parents. The crushing darkness seemed to last especially long, as it was the farthest any of them had travelled. But sure enough, they suddenly felt the warm sun in a thicket of trees near the town.

They travelled into town to look at transportation options - none of them wanted to walk to the Alps - and Harry remained under the cloak as a precaution. This turned out to be a good move. Even though they were planning to avail of Muggle means, there happened to be a wizarding shop in the town, and to their astonishment there was a poster with Harry's face on it. The text was in French, but from under the cloak Harry saw the word "Dumbledore". Clearly it was putting out the same story the Prophet had reported after the Ministry fell.

"Looks like Madame Maxine's influence is on the wane," muttered Ron. Hermione nodded sadly.

Three bus tickets procured through clumsily reading a phrasebook later, they were on their way to the nearest city. This part of the world hadn't lost its summer heat yet, and it was pleasant to sit and watch the world go by. Harry caught himself forgetting why he was here. He felt bad for doing it, like it was that easy to abandon everyone who had helped him leave the Dursley's.

Arriving just after lunchtime and getting some cheap sandwiches, the phrasebook was taken out again to mangle a request for train tickets for the southern coast. The journey was even more pleasant, as their compartment was less cramped than the bus had been. Harry caught himself wondering where the smoke and steam was, then remembering he wasn't on the Hogwarts Express, even though it was steaming north at the same moment they headed south. They arrived in the late afternoon, and hiked out of town to set up camp. Ron suggested getting a hotel room, but Hermione didn't have infinite money and wanted to save it for essentials.

Harry's scar twinged that night. His dreams had settled down ever since their narrow escapes from the Death Eaters in the summer. Mostly it seemed Voldemort was continuing his march through unknown countryside in search of something. Compared to what he had seen in the past, this was mundane. There was one curious thing about the dreams at present. Lately, he almost always felt a twinge of fear for at least part of them. It was unconnected to his own feelings, and yet there was nothing in the dream that would encourage Voldemort to be frightened.

"So even if we're incredibly lucky and the locket is still there," mumbled Ron over breakfast the next day, "how do we get rid of it?"

"Well, I was reading _Secrets of the Blackest Art_ again last night," replied Hermione. "Unfortunately our options are pretty limited. We don't have access to basilisk venom. The locket isn't a living thing, so we can't just kill it, not that I'd want to. If we had a team of wizards from the Department of Mysteries we could maybe strip down all its enchantments and then just smash it with a hammer. We could possibly find a dragon and trick them into eating it, as a dragon's stomach is corrosive and magical enough to do the job, but even if you threw it into their mouth there's a good chance they'd just spit it out. The only other remotely feasible option is Fiendfyre."

"What-fire?"

"Fiendfyre. Cursed fire. It's a powerful bit of dark magic. It starts as a small flame but if you lose control it grows huge and wildly hot and spreads of its own will. I read all about it, but I'd never use it."

"Why not?"

"Because it's incredibly difficult to control. If I messed it up, it could burn down the entire city we were in yesterday before it stopped. It's our option of last resort, maybe after we find the other Horcruxes and can deal with them all at once. But even then I'd hesitate."

They packed up camp and headed back into town. Today it was another train ride along the coast, almost to the border with Italy. From there it was several cramped hours on another bus as they turned northwards again. It was always at an upward angle as the sea disappeared behind them and the mountains loomed ahead of them. The roads grew twisty and narrow, and their progress slowed to a crawl. It was late afternoon when they finally saw the sign.

_WELCOME TO EBOTT_

"Here, why's it in English?" asked Ron. "Don't they speak French or German near Switzerland?"

"I did a bit of reading about Muggle Ebott. It used to be ruled by some obscure English Lord who was insistent on preserving his tongue, and had strict punishment for not speaking it in public. Well whatever he did it worked, and even though those laws died soon after he did, they held on to the language. There was a bit of influence between the World Wars to shift to one or the other, but afterwards they made a lot of their money by being a tax haven for a lot of big Muggle Companies, and most of them operate in English, so the pressure died down."

Ron understood maybe two thirds of this, so just smiled and nodded.

They got off at the first town, and spent time looking over the map. Despite the relatively compact nature of the country, Mount Ebott was still a fair bit away. After a quick cup of tea - branded with a yellow flower - and the novelty of not butchering French, they set out on foot to begin the journey. Ebott seemed to be a place of extremes. There were at least two sizeable cities that they were aware of, but most of the other towns were tiny, and most of the country was pristine and untouched. It would have been nice to come here even without their quest. They were able to set up camp in a secluded forest, and were left totally alone. Except for Harry's scar and the recurring dream.

* * *

The next morning they set out again. They saw it long before they reached it. Mount Ebott. For being up in the mountains it looked rather isolated, surrounded by open plains of the plateau. From Mundungus' description, the cave he had lost the locket in was somewhere around the eastern base, so they approached from that direction. It took two hours of hiking that none of them were used to, but at last they found it.

There were indeed rocks strewn around, but the cave looked in good shape. Harry had to remind himself that a year had passed and who knew how many people had come and gone since then. And just as in the story, beyond a small tangle of branches and vines, was a massive hole. Peering carefully over the edge, they were amazed at how deep it went. At the very bottom, they could see a small flowerbed filled with golden flowers.

Ron peered intently down the hole. "Damn, I don't think we have enough rope. It wouldn't reach halfway." To prove his point he pulled off his backpack, fished one of the ropes out and unspooled it. As predicted, it rested against the wall, a good twenty or so feet from the flowers. He re-spooled it using his wand.

"We could use magic to get down safely," said Hermione, "but it would be a one way trip. And who knows where the other exit is? If there even is one?"

Harry's heart sank, but he strived not to show it. Pulling out his wand, he pointed down the hole. " _Lumos._ "

The wandlight reached all the way to the bottom. He carefully moved it around. Unfortunately, nothing seemed to glint in the unexpected light. Then it was Hermione's turn to try a spell.

" _Accio locket!_ "

Nothing happened.

"Well," said Ron, "maybe that magic Mundungus mentioned stops summoning charms?"

"I don't see any magic," said Hermione, "he mentioned a shimmering field of some sort? But then he also mentioned a lot of fireworks going on during the earthquake. Maybe that broke it. Or maybe breaking it caused the earthquake, that can happen with powerful enchantments."

" _Accio flower!_ "

A second later, a large golden flower zoomed into Harry's hand. He let it drop back into the hole, and sat on a rock.

"Nothing. We came here for nothing. And back home everyone is-"

"We're not beat yet, Harry!" said Hermione urgently. "We just need to get more rope, and then we can explore in greater detail."

Harry didn't bother hiding his low spirits. It had been one thing to risk exposing themselves if it had paid off, but where was there to look now? These caves could be enormous, they could spend weeks or even months searching here. What good was that while Voldemort tightened his grip?

"What about that wizard house Mundungus tried to nick stuff from," offered Ron, "worth a looksee, don't you think?"

More to cling to the illusion of progress than hope of tangible results, Harry agreed. It had reportedly been not too far from the western face of the mountain, so they headed north to where the road was so they could follow it.

It wasn't long however before something out of place appeared. A sign for a town. Its name under a purple and white emblem, a coat of arms with wings spread above three triangles.

_WELCOME TO DOMUS NOVA_

"Hermione, didn't Mundungus say there was only the wizard house?"

"Yes he did," she replied, face buried in a map, "there's nothing about a town on the map. Look." She pointed to the lack of dots for towns around Mount Ebott, and then to the nearest town which was several miles away.

"Maybe it's a new town," said Ron. "Mundungus did say there used to be a village here. Maybe they reclaimed it. Probably not that big."

He was wrong. As they walked around a bend in the road the town revealed its scope. They could see large civic buildings towards its center. And all the while there were lots of houses of a curious range of sizes peppered with the occasional shop. And it was all brand new looking, but with an air of being long lived in and cared for.

Ron was amazed. "Muggles built a whole new town in a year?!"

"Well it's not impossible, Ron. Muggles can build lots of stuff really quickly if they plan it right, they're great at large scale projects. It's unusual though. Why build a complete town here?"

They soon had their answer. A little way into town, a figure emerged from one of the smaller houses. It was around two feet tall, and looked unmistakably like a mouse. The reaction as the figure’s head turned to them was not one of surprise or alarm. Instead a small arm waved jovially.

"Hello there!" he squeaked. Mechanically, they waved back as he walked up the road the way they had came.

"What was...?" Ron's question faltered. He was left without a response.

* * *

The town, seeming to recognise his question, decided to load more upon them. It wasn’t long before they were inundated with strange creatures. Some looked like normal animals, except for the clothes they wore. Others vaguely reminded them of Care of Magical Creatures lessons, though in a wildly different shape. And others still were creatures they had absolutely no frame of reference for. Some were tiny winged creatures that floated, and others were large hulking creatures in a variety of colours. They even saw a dragon, albeit one they were barely taller than and who was busy fiddling with a phone. There were humans as well, but clearly in the minority, and they seemed just as unconcerned about the appearance of their neighbours as the mouse had been with them. The real conundrum of where they had found themselves came as they approached a park. Two human children of about six years old looked on with delight as their rabbit friend conjured brightly coloured flashes of light in a variety of shapes, seemingly with their bare hands.

"Blimey," said Ron in surprise, "is that mag-?"

" _Shh!_ " hushed Hermione. The young girl briefly turned her head in their direction, but quickly got bored and returned to the show her friend was putting on. The three looked around, and now being aware of it saw signs of magic everywhere. The creatures were making doors close behind them, carrying bags of shopping without touching them or, like the rabbit and their friends, just showing off what they can do. The humans around were entirely unconcerned. Some were even amused.

"Is... is this like Hogsmeade?" asked Harry quietly. "Is this an all wizard- I mean, all magical town?"

"I don't know, Harry," said Hermione, "I haven't seen a human do any magic since we arrived. And look at how they're dressed."

She was right. There was not a single wand in sight. And the humans were dressed in shirts, jackets, trousers, jeans, shorts, skirts. All perfectly normal Muggle clothing, assembled with normal fashion tastes. And therefore highly unlikely to be wizards.

"But then, why are a bunch of Muggles okay around magic?" asked Ron. "People always said it would be another Salem if they rediscovered it, right?"

"I haven't the faintest idea. But I think we should follow their example." Her voice dropped to a near whisper. "Let's not discuss magic or wizards out in the open until we learn more. And keep your wands hidden."

As they reached the center of town, Harry's earlier comparison to Hogsmeade felt more appropriate. It pulsed with activity as humans and the creatures went about their business, in and out of shops and cafes. The one major difference was the presence of shops that accommodated muggle electronics, which would have been useless around Hogsmeade. Whatever the type of magic was in this town, it seemed to play nice with electricity. Harry had been so taken aback with where they found themselves the reason for their journey had temporarily fled his mind. It finally found an opportunity to return however.

"How are we going to find Mundungus' house?"

"Well, this road looks a little more worn down than the side streets, I think it's the original road. If we continue this way and look out for a building nobody seems to notice-"

"GREETINGS, HUMANS!"

The house was driven from their minds again as they turned around to face the voice that called them. A skeleton, slightly taller than Ron, stood before them. He wore a white t-shirt with 'OFFICIAL GREETER' printed on it, though how it rested on his upper body suggested he was wearing something hard underneath it, like a piece of armour. His bony arms ended in bright red gloves, matched by the red cape draping his shoulders and the red boots on his feet. A pair of formal black trousers were held up by a belt worn as tight as possible. Even for a skull, there was no mistaking how cheerful his grin was.

"I MUST APOLOGISE FOR MY TARDINESS! WE WERE NOT EXPECTING ANY ADDITIONAL GUESTS TO ARRIVE TODAY, AND I WAS ENGAGED WITH A COOKING LESSON. NEVERTHELESS, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, OFFICIALLY WELCOME YOU TO DOMUS NOVA!"

He held out a gloved hand. More bewildered than anything, Ron and Hermione looked on as Harry gingerly approached him and took his hand. It was shaken with unrestrained enthusiasm. He was reminded of the Creevey Brothers.

"SPLENDID! WOULD YOUR FRIENDS CARE TO INTRODUCE THEMSELVES?"

"Um," said Harry, feeling off balance by his forwardness, and yet also not wanting to refuse him, "this is Ron, this is Hermione, and my name is Harry."

"AH, WHAT INTERESTING NAMES!"

Hermione was the first to break out of her bewilderment. "Um, excuse me, Mister Papyrus, was it?"

"YES, HUMAN?" Their names hadn't sunk in, apparently.

"Well, it's just that, we hadn't really heard of Domus Nova before we came here today, and I'd like to ask..." she struggled with the diplomatic approach. "...what exactly are you?"

"DO NOT FRETT, HUMAN! THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS A STUPID QUESTION. I AM A MONSTER."

She pointed to a creature near a hotel with what looked like a hand for a head. "And... what are they?"

"SHE'S ALSO A MONSTER."

Over at a bear. "And them?"

"ISN'T IT OBVIOUS? HE'S ALSO A MONSTER. WE'RE ALL MONSTERS HERE! WELL, EXCEPT FOR OUR HUMAN FRIENDS."

"And are monsters..." Ron hazarded, "all the one race?"

"AH-HA," cried Papyrus triumphantly, "YOU ARE QUICK TO UNDERSTAND, HUMAN!" He turned to look at Hermione, and Harry got the impression he had a sympathetic glean in his sockets. "DO NOT WORRY, HUMAN. YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO LEARN A LOT FROM YOUR FRIEND."

Harry and Ron grinned, while Hermione looked put out.

"ARE YOU HERE FOR THE BARRIER FESTIVAL? IT WILL BE IN A FEW WEEKS."

"We're not sure what that is, and we have something important to do," said Harry, and almost feeling guilty quickly followed up, "but it sounds interesting. Maybe we'll come if we have time."

"WOWIE! EVER SINCE I SHOOK YOUR HAND I HAD A FUNNY TINGLING SENSATION IN MY RIB CAGE. THIS WAS CLEARLY MY INSTINCTS TELLING ME WE WOULD ALL BECOME GREAT FRIENDS! AND THOSE INSTINCTS ARE CORRECT! AH, BUT I FORGOT YOUR OFFICIAL WELCOME BOOKLET."

Reaching behind his back, Papyrus seemed to extract three identical booklets from nowhere, and handed them one each. on the front was the name of the town with the same coat of arms that had been on the sign. The contents looked like a brief history, local attractions and upcoming events. On the back was a street map with a few highlights pointed out. There was also a local business discount card inside.

"MY PHONE NUMBER IS ON THE LIST OF USEFUL CONTACTS CONTAINED WITHIN, SO IF YOU HAVE ANY FURTHER QUESTIONS, I’LL ANSWER WITHOUT HESITATION."

"Uh, okay. Thanks, Papyrus," said Harry. Now was not the time to tell him nobody in their group had a phone.

"FAREWELL THEN, HUMANS. PLEASE ENJOY YOUR STAY!" He then dashed up the street in even higher spirits than when he first accosted them.

"Well," said Ron, who had clearly been infected by Papyrus' good mood, "as unexpected developments in our lives go, this is a lot more pleasant than the last one."

* * *

_THE TOWN OF DOMUS NOVA WAS FOUNDED BY OUR KING SOON AFTER THE BARRIER BROKE. THERE WAS AN ARGUMENT ABOUT THE NAME WITH THE QUEEN, SO THE KING COMPROMISED. WE HAVE BEEN HERE FOR NEARLY A YEAR!_

The brief history of Domus Nova was indeed brief, Harry concluded. They had decided to avail of their discount at an ice cream shop run by a blue rabbit, and were now studying their booklets. Despite having only met him for a few minutes, Harry suspected this history had been written by Papyrus himself, and hadn't occurred to him that people might not know what he meant by a barrier or who the King was. People like the three of them. The attractions were better thought out, pointing out things like the theater and cinema, places to play, a variety of nature trails winding through the nearby forests and a lake, and some caves halfway up Mount Ebott - BY APPOINTMENT AND WITH ROYAL PERMISSION ONLY, it warned - but also houses of interesting monsters, including Papyrus'. The upcoming events seemed to mostly involve a regular event at the theater, with the only real standout thing being the Barrier Festival Papyrus had mentioned. As it transpired, it was to celebrate the anniversary of the barrier breaking. An anniversary that meant nothing to Harry.

"When we're finished here, do you want to try and find that house?"

"Oh, Harry, there's an antique shop!" said Hermione, pointing at the map.

"And why would you want to go there," asked Ron, "Want to help Harry refurbish Grimmauld Place with all new old junk?"

"Of course not. I just thought that if someone did move the locket from that cave, then maybe they tried to sell it? Nobody here seems to know about wizards, so a Muggle could easily get the wrong idea. Or maybe these monsters found it? They've laid claim to caves in the mountain, who knows how interconnected they are?"

Harry nodded in agreement, and soon it was back out into the hustle and bustle of the town. It was strange and actually refreshing that he was a sight of no interest to the average passerby, while on the other side all Harry wanted to do was gaze back at them. He fought the urge to do this.

The shop turned out to be on a quiet side street on the edge of the central part of town. At first, the inside was anti-climactic in how mundane it looked. Most of the antiques were china cups and old clocks and jewellery, exactly the sort of stuff Aunt Petunia would have bought when she was looking for something to impress dinner guests. However there were a few trinkets and ornaments of such bizarre shapes Harry could only conclude they were made by monsters. His eyes rested on a set of cutlery that seemed slightly too large for humans. Picking up an oversized fork, he noticed the same emblem which was on their welcome booklet printed on the handle.

"Heh! Need a new set, boy?"

He jerked his round. The proprietor of the shop had appeared. It was a large tortoise, up to their shoulders in height, not counting the fez he had donned to compliment a smoking jacket. He had an extremely wizened look, with crooked yellow teeth, a long beard sprouting from his chin, and a single yellow eye that gazed keenly at the three of them.

"How do you do, young’uns? I'm..."

His posture shifted. Harry caught a glimpse of his second eye as his keen gaze intensified for a moment. Then he shook his head.

"Huh. Sorry about that, folks. De ja vu. It happens a lot at my age."

"How old are you?" Ron blurted out. Hermione shot him a how-can-you-be-so-tactless look.

"Ha! One thousand and seventeen next February! Not that it's your business, kiddo."

"Um, we're sorry, Mister...?"

"Gerson! Of Gerson Antiques! Of course, I'm the oldest thing in here by at least a coupla centuries! Now, I'll hazard by that young man's big mouth that this is yer first time here?" They nodded. "Seems to be a tradition, humans asking a rude question or two when they meet us. It's how they cope with us, I reckon. I see young Pap has bothered you with those booklets of his. He asked me to write the history, but apparently decided a forty page summary was too long. Whippersnappers have no patience! Now young man, are you interested in the cutlery?"

"I... I wasn't planning to buy," admitted Harry, "I was looking at the symbol. It's the same one the sign for the town has?"

"Very observant!" Gerson nodded in approval. "That emblem is the symbol of the Monster Kingdom. We call it the Delta Rune. Well I say 'we' call it, it was Mister Fluffybuns who named it. Best name he ever came up with. Wa ha!"

"Sorry, Mister Who?"

"The King, girl! Anyway, that there cutlery was a gift from him when I opened this here shop."

"A King gave it to you? Are they made of silver or something?" Ron asked before he could stop himself.

"Nah, just plain stainless steel. Truth be told I think he just got a new set and wanted to clear out his cutlery drawer. If I wanted though he'd come running with all sorts of jewels and stuff. He's a pushover, really. Now, are you interested in buying, young man?"

"Actually," interjected Hermione, "we were wondering if you had any lockets for sale? A friend of ours loves lockets and we thought it might be nice to get them one."

"Hmm, let's see..."

Gerson briefly disappeared behind the counter, and then popped back up with a wooden case. Harry felt a moment's thrill as the leathery hands opened it, but was disappointed. None of the half-dozen or so lockets haphazardly laid out looked like Slytherin's locket. Only one was even golden.

"Any of these catch your fancy, missy?"

"Hmm..." said Hermione thoughtfully, "they're very nice, but our friend has specific tastes. They like golden chains, and the main body to be embedded with jewels of some sort, but emeralds are their favourite. Do you have anything like that?"

"Can't say that I do."

"Well... have you seen one like that? Or maybe sold it?"

Harry could tell she was worried about tipping her hand, but Gerson just stroked his chin and beard and thought deeply.

"Sorry, Girl, can't say that I do. Sure none of these are to yer likin’?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe we'll think about it."

"Alright then! I ain't goin' anywhere. You kids enjoy your stay here!"

"Thank you, Mister Gerson."

The three of them walked out. None of them noticed Gerson reaching for the telephone on the counter.

"Another dead end," muttered Harry, giving voice to the whine of concern that had been there since they left the cave.

"It was always a longshot, Harry," Hermione tried to reassure him, "but we're not out of options yet. Let's try for the house."

This entailed heading back into the center of town to try and find the main road again. They didn't hurry, partly because the atmosphere was so pleasant, and partly because Harry wanted to put off the moment of disappointment as long as possible. That even though they had found somewhere amazing, it did nothing to defeat Voldemort, and all his friends were in jeopardy under his rule. And the rule of the murderer Snape. He thought of Ginny, and his heart sank a little more.

As they left the center of town again, the buildings reverted to houses. There were fewer of them around this end, and they were larger and had much more space between them. Idly he wondered if the size was because of their inhabitants having more money, or out of necessity for their size.

"I think we've taken a wrong turn, Hermione," said Ron. "This road looks too neat and tidy."

"Damn, I think you're right," she replied, extracting the welcome booklet and consulting the map. "Yes, the main road takes a sharp bend, we've probably continued along an extension, we had better-"

And then, for the second time that day, they were interrupted by something completely unexpected, but entirely friendly sounding.

"Howdy!"

The greeting could not have been ignored. It was so deep and booming it held a kind of authority on that basis alone. But it was also so friendly they would have felt rude. So like with Papyrus, they turned around.

This was clearly the mysterious King. The obvious clue was the crown on his head, already at least a foot and a half taller than Ron before you took the pure white horns curling wickedly from it into account. Even without that, his posture was one of practised dignity, making the large frame that would take two normal men to match its width seem perfectly and unremarkable. From under the magnificent purple cloak poked two bare paws, covered in the same fluffy white fur that seemed to be on every part of his body. His face was somewhat like a goat's, with the exception of the two large fangs that peeked over his open smile, and the sloppily combed golden hair and beard that threatened to smother his face. Two long, floppy ears floated on this hair framing the whole display. His eyes were the same shade of purple as his cloak, and combined with his smile gave off a warmth of their own. Between the size and the hair and his sheer friendliness, Harry could not shake off impressions of Hagrid. It was then he noticed the arm emerging from the cloak. Large and beefy and just as furry as the rest of him, ending in what looked like a normal human hand, save for its size. And the fur. And the claws that looked really sharp.

"Are you folks alright? Didn't think there was much for humans to see around here."

The outstretched hand waited patiently. Once again Harry was the guinea pig to take it. His own was grasped firmly but with care, to avoid poking him with those claws. And unlike the wild shaking of Papyrus, it was shook with deliberate and precise movements. Harry wondered if this was a diplomatic quirk, or the King was controlling his strength so as not to accidentally dislocate something. And all the while, the King was taking the three of them in with interest, not unlike Gerson had done. As they were shaking. Harry noticed what looked like a shirt collar poking out from the top of the cloak on his right hand side. He then also spotted less than tidy stitchwork along the cloak. The possibility came to him that the cloak might be inside out, like it was donned in a hurry.

"Oh, we're fine," said Hermione, "we were just passing through and took a wrong turn. That bend in the main road, you see."

"Ah. I've been meaning to get some extra signposts for that. You're quite right, it's not intuitive at all. Is this your first time in our town?"

"Oh, y-yeah!" Ron chirped, eager to please the creature with claws currently holding his friend's arm hostage. "Never seen anywhere like this! Well maybe..."

Ron shut himself up before he earned a look of annoyance from Hermione. The King hadn't reacted to the last two words anyway. He had released Harry's hand and was looking up at the sky.

"Sure was a nice morning, huh? But it looks like it might rain shortly," he said thoughtfully. "Would you, er, care to wait it out in my house? A cup of tea might pick you up before you continue your journey as well."

Harry wondered whether some form of hypnosis or mind control was part of monster magic, because like with Papyrus he felt heavily disinclined to refuse. However this time it wasn't just because they were being asked in such a friendly manner. The King must have been leading people for a long time, because he had the knack of adding a hint of authority to the mildest suggestions. It was the kind of thing Dumbledore would have done.

"Um, sure. Tea sounds great."

"Splendid! It's just down this street."


	5. Horns and Tea Leaves

Despite his bulky size, the King was surprisingly light on his feet. Harry was used to sometimes feeling the footsteps of Hagrid before hearing them, but although the King did not look like he was trying to be particularly graceful with his strides, his feet made the noise of a much lighter step. No wonder he had managed to sneak up on them in an empty street. The rain turned out to not be a ruse, as the three of them felt it beginning as they arrived at his house. It looked pretty modern, save for the fact that each story of it was two or three feet taller than a human house might have been. The front yard was festooned with a variety of bushes, trimmed in impressive shapes of what must have been monsters. Harry saw one that reminded him of Gerson. There was another bush in the middle, almost hidden by the others, that appeared to basically human in shape, the size of a child. The bushes were surrounded by flowers. Reds and blues and greens and purples. There was also signs of recent digging around a lot of them. The King noticed they were admiring the garden.

"I hope you like it," he said proudly. "I had golden flowers, but lately I decided they didn't suit."

He opened his large front door, which had the Delta Rune carved on it, and beckoned them inside. In contrast to the modern appearance of the outside, the inside felt like an old cottage. Wooden floors that looked older than the year they had spent in existence, mismatched rugs and tables, covered with more flowers and other plants, old brass doorknobs, and purple and white striped wallpaper. The King took off his cloak and hung it up on a coathook. Harry could see the collar he had noticed earlier was attached to a green shirt with red flowers covering it, and this was above what looked like normal, if large, jeans, save for the hole through which a fluffy tail was twitching wildly. Before he could dwell on this, the King turned around again.

"Make yourself comfortable in the living room. I'm just heating the kettle."

The living room continued the quaint appearance of the hallway. None of the chairs matched, despite their large size almost demanding they had been custom made. The three of them sat on the main sofa and barely took half the space. The window cill was covered in more plants, while the mantelpiece over the fireplace had only photographs. Pride of place was given to a large and old-looking photograph of the King, two other goat-like monsters and a human child, barely looking at the camera with a tiny unpractised smile. There were newer, smaller photos as well. One was a formal portrait of the King on his own. The others were mostly of the King with the human child or the smaller monster or both. The one thing that really felt like it didn't belong was the large modern television in the corner. Gardening magazines covered the coffee table before them.

"Blimey," Ron whispered, "he's got a hell of a green thumb. Or green claw, maybe."

Hermione perked her ears up. Harry heard the noise too as the King entered the room. The teacups and saucers were clattering. As he set the tray down on the coffee table, Harry realised he was trembling. Despite the stoic look on his face, the King was intensely nervous about something. The tray contained five cups of tea, a blue pot, milk, honey, sugar, a plate of assorted biscuits and an old looking wooden box with the Delta Rune on it. He picked up his tea and the box, and as they poured milk and stirred, he placed his own cup on a side-table by one of the large chairs, sat down and aimed a furry hand at the fireplace. A small ball of fire shot towards it, and it instantly burst into a fire that looked like it had burned for hours. All three of them looked on with interest, as this was the most overt example of magic yet.

"Is your tea alright?" he asked. They nodded. "Good. Shall we begin, then?"

"I'm sorry," said Hermione, "begin what...?"

But he had already turned to the box on his lap. Opening it, he ruffled around in it for a moment before extracting an ancient looking piece of parchment. He then fumbled with his shirt pocket, recovered a small pair of spectacles he proceeded to balance on his muzzle. He then cleared his throat, and began to speak.

"I, Asgore Dreemurr, lawful kinge of all monsters, do hereby beseech and petition thee for the right of parley. And if thou shalt accept mine petition, I humbly request that thine ministry shall acknowledge such parley, and thence acknowledge any and all force of arms or magicks shall be stayed under truce until such times as parley is concluded, or I act with perfidy and strike under such parley."

This humble petition hung in the air for several long moments, as the King looked on, finally allowing his nervousness to appear on his face.

"Erm..." Ron finally ventured, "no offence, but are you mental?"

He earned a sharp elbow in the ribs for this. The anxiety in those purple eyes became confusion.

"I'm sorry...?"

"Ow! Come off it, Hermione!" Ron snapped angrily. "Don't tell me you had a bloody clue what he was on about!"

"You... you mean you aren't...?"

Hermione's sharp expression softened as she looked over to his chair. "I... I'm really sorry Mister, um, Dreemurr, Your Majesty..."

"Asgore shall suffice, miss."

"Alright. Well, I'm sorry, Asgore, but we don't understand what you're talking about."

He surveyed them as he carefully put away the parchment and his glasses. "So you don't. I had thought you were perhaps a bit young for such a job. But I sensed it. You are, are you not?"

"We're... we're what?" asked Harry, though he thought he knew the answer even as he spoke.

"Well you're all wizards, aren't you?"

The shock they felt was allowed to flood them only for a moment before being distracted by the front door opening and closing. A couple of voices, and a clamber of feet heading upstairs. Then the living room door opened, and another monster walked in. Harry recognised her from the large photograph. Not quite as tall as Asgore with much shorter horns, and much more slender. There was not a trace of hair other than the white fur which was their natural covering. Even without her non-human appearance, Harry might have pegged her as magical, as she wore simple purple robes with the Delta Rune embroidered on them. Her copper-red eyes surveyed the scene.

"Toriel!" Asgore turned quickly back to the three of them. "Ah, this is my... erm, well. Toriel, there may have been a misunderstanding..."

Toriel ignored him. She was surveying Harry, Ron and Hermione quite intently, and unlike Gerson or Asgore, this was deliberate and unhidden. She wasn't smiling, but nor did she look angry or hostile. If anything, she looked shrewd. And then she covered her mouth in open shock.

"Asgore, it is true!" she cried. "Gerson was right. They are wizards!"

"How do you know that?!" demanded Ron, who had given up trying to hide the fact.

"Um, we monsters are creatures of magic," said Asgore, "we've always been able to sense it. And when humans use it a lot, it builds up in your bodies and we can pick up on it. I doubt many of the younger monsters would recognise the feeling, they haven't met a wizard in their lives. But Gerson has. And so have we. He called me when you left his shop, so I hurried over to meet you, and I contacted Toriel because we thought you might... Toriel dear, there might have been a mistake, they don't appear to represent any Ministry."

Toriel's shock had passed, replaced with confusion similar to Asgore's. "But then... what are they doing here? Are they not here about the barrier? And what about this locket they were so interested in?"

Harry felt a drooping situation in his stomach. It appeared they had a lot to unpack, while at the same time ensuring part of it remained packed tight.

"Um, Mrs Dreemurr-"

"Please do not call me that, sir," she said curtly, "I am Toriel."

"Okay then. Toriel, I think this cup of tea was for you? Let's sit down and talk about this."

* * *

The resulting conversation was a mostly a huge History of Magic and Care of Magical Creatures lesson. Toriel sat in the chair opposite Asgore, though remained focused entirely on his guests as they took turns explaining. As fascinating as it was, Harry also picked up on how distant they were compared to the photograph above them.

They had started with the war, ostensibly sparked by a Human King giving a completely unreasonable demand, but they suspected he had been counselled by wizards, if not outright controlled. Beyond that, both of them were oblivious to why the war started, save for that basic fear of stealing a soul. Then they described the power of souls, and what monsters could do with them.

"You mean all human souls are magically powerful? Then why are there so few wizards?"

"Human bodies are so heavily comprised of physical matter that they are poorly suited for tapping into magical power. It is why those of you who can channel it usually rely on a wand or a staff to aid you. You all have wands, do you not?" They nodded. "Well that is why. If you could harness the power of your soul as we do with ours, you would be truly all-powerful."

"And this idea of a monster taking a human soul and going barking with it. Did that ever happen?"

"Before the war, never. We've never sought power for power's sake."

The motive for war had been academic however, as they had been defeated, rounded up, and sealed inside Mount Ebott with a spell of great power, more powerful than they had thought possible.

"And that was the barrier that broke almost a year ago? How did it break?"

Asgore dipped his head and looked away from them. Toriel focused on him for the first time in the conversation, a steely look of warning in her eyes.

"Well..."

A thumping noise from the door granted Asgore a reprieve. Toriel looked half worried, half angry as she got up, walked over to the door and opened it.

"Children! I told you to play upstairs while I spoke with your father! I suppose you snuck back down the moment I closed the door."

Harry watched as the two children entered the room. The smallest monster from the photograph was looking bashful and embarrassed at being caught, scratching his ear. Comparing him to his parents, it was amazing how much growing he might end up doing. He was 'bald' like his mother, save for a tuft of white fur on his head where horns had yet to grow in. His bright green eyes had settled directly on Harry, seemingly to avoid his parents' gaze. His human sibling showed no such embarrassment, and stood tall and defiant. Their brown hair was a bit longer than Harry or Ron's, and they observed the five of them with narrow grey eyes that were hard to discern. The look on their face was adamant: They were not going to be ejected from the conversation.

"Our children," said Asgore, resigned to the fact the damage had been done. "Frisk is adopted, of course. And this-"

"Uh, h-hello," squeaked the monster, "my name's Asriel."

His parents looked at him in mild surprise. Evidently he was not prone to introducing himself to strangers. Harry returned the favour.

"Um, hello. My name's Harry. Harry Potter."

"Your eyes are green," said Asriel with a small smile, revealing fangs like his father's. "My eyes are green too!" He wrung his hands for a moment. " _Areyoureallyawizard?!_ "

"What? Oh, yes, yes I am. And so are my friends here. This is Ron Weasley, and this is Hermione Granger."

Asriel's eyes lit up as they each gave him a small "Hello". "Can you cast a spell?"

Harry felt a moment's reluctance. He had no idea how all this interacted with Wizarding Secrecy, and to use magic willy nilly before what was almost certainly a Muggle... a Muggle currently living with magical goats. The absurdity of the situation relaxed his caution. He pulled his wand out from his jacket and pointed it at the sugar bowl.

" _Wingardium Leviosa._ "

The bowl floated off the tray, tracked by a rainbow of eye colours. Harry guided it in first a circle, then a figure-eight around all their heads. He was tempted to steer it between Asgore's horns, but that was probably too presumptive for the situation, so instead he opted to carefully return it to the tray.

Asriel hadn't blinked since Harry's wand appeared. "G-golly," he said softly, "I bet Sans would be jealous!"

"Don't do it."

Six pairs of eyes turned towards Frisk.

"Don't seal them up again," they continued. "Please. They don't deserve it."

The three of them were nonplussed. "Frisk, was it? Well for starters, we have no idea how to do that-"

"So you'd do it if you knew how." It was a statement, not a question.

"No, I'm not saying that."

"Liar." The three monsters looked on with concern. This was clearly unusual for Frisk. "You made them do it, you know. You made _him_ do it." They looked around wildly at their family. "You don't know the damage you caused!"

Harry didn't like where this conversation was going, but at the same time he wanted to know. Toriel cut in however.

"Frisk, my child, these are not the same wizards who banished us. Surely you of all people can appreciate the perils of preconceptions?"

Frisk wrestled with complicated emotions. Seeming to sense Harry's unasked question, they took the pain of explaining away from Asgore.

"Seven human souls."

Toriel was alarmed. "Frisk, I-"

"They probably know anyway, why else are they here? The only way to break the barrier was the power of seven human souls. And since it takes thousands of monster souls to equal the power of a human one, and it's really hard to just borrow a soul..."

Harry felt his earlier bad feeling confirmed, as Hermione caught on to the implications and covered her mouth. Ron's face was frozen in an admirable attempt of looking unconcerned. Despite not having to recount it, Asgore looked to be in anguish.

"But that's what those wizards wanted, wasn't it? Either monsters stay trapped forever, or they prove everything the humans thought about them and justify war. When they could have just tried getting to know them. I've gotten to know them. They're the best friends I've ever had. They're my family. They wouldn't have hurt anyone. _He_ wouldn't have hurt anyone! Look at him!" They pointed to Asgore with accusation, who wore a look of utter defeat. "Does he look like a killer?! Like he enjoyed it?! It broke him! Those wizards broke him! They broke Mom too! _**You**_ broke them! You broke this whole family when-"

They suddenly stopped, though their arms were restlessly moving around with no idea of what to focus on. Even in this unexpected tirade some things seemed to be too personal to bring up. Toriel was in silent tears, and Asriel looked on with a mixture of fear and sympathy.

"And it's only since they got out they were able to find a way to put themselves back together! But don't worry, take your time, no need to slap them down for a year or so, give them a taste of the sun before you take it away again! Oh, and I should make it clear. It was only six. It's... complicated, but they were able to bring every monster together to equal the seventh soul. No point condemning them for something they didn't do."

The story finished, they continued to glare at the three wizards. And then they broke down and burst into tears. By the looks on the Dreemurrs' faces, this was even rarer and more alarming than their outburst. The sound stirred Asgore however. He swiftly picked up Frisk and hugged them. Toriel had her hands on Asriel's shoulders as both of them looked at the scene with silent worry. In spite of the intensely personal moment in front of him, Harry had the opportunity to compare Frisk to the large photograph. It struck him that it was a different human besides Asriel, similar but definitely not Frisk. However he was too caught up in the drama to think about this.

Several deep breaths later, Frisk concluded. "If you're... if you're sealing them again, I'm going back in after them. You can't stop me."

Hermione had tears in her eyes too. Harry could tell she had processed the situation from about seventeen different angles and there were two or three she'd have loved to talk about right now, but when she spoke, it was the angle of attempting to help their hosts understand.

"Frisk. Asgore. Everyone. I'm not sure how to say this, but I don't think wizards are planning to return you to the mountain."

"How can you be so sure?" asked Toriel sharply.

"Because, well, until today, no wizard we've ever met in our lives even hinted you existed."

The copper-red eyes pierced Hermione intently. "What?"

"The only clue I know of was of some alliance between Muggles - that's non-magical humans - and wizards in Ebott centuries ago. That was probably the war you mentioned. But our records don't say more than that. And the wizards of Ebott disappeared around three hundred years ago. If anyone had any remaining records of you, it would have been them. And wizards have generally kept clear of Ebott ever since. Finally wizards, all of them, went into hiding from Muggles around the same time. It's probably another reason why you haven't seen any. We may be among the first wizards to meet you in person."

It was Toriel and Frisk who were glaring at her. "Wizards... forgot about us? Entirely? And abandoned the world?" Toriel's question was flat, almost uninterested.

Frisk brought the fury. "All that pain. Not just being trapped or what they did to free themselves. You wizards caused all that pain and anguish and just... _forgot about it?!_ You couldn't even have the decency to remember the things you did?!"

Asgore shook a little at these words. Distracted by this, nobody noticed Asriel flinching as well.

"Oh, Dad, I didn't mean to... I'm sorry..." They hugged him tightly.

"Frisk," Asgore gently set them down again. Their guilt seemed to have helped him find his voice, "you never had these feelings when you were introducing us to non-magical humans. Even when we met the Governor of Ebott. Why do the wizards upset you so?"

"Because..." a deep breath, "Because... I don't even know. I've heard you ask where are the wizards for a year and you all sounded so nervous. And that made me nervous. And I thought a lot about it. Humans can attack and kill monsters and that would be terrible. But wizards coming and putting you back underground would be even worse, because it means starting all over again with getting out and you could never do it again and I'd never want you to and I just love you all so much and the sort of people who hurt you come back out of nowhere and I couldn't bare to never watch you stargaze again and..."

Their voice failed them again. Harry found this a good opportunity to examine the paws of their hosts.

"We're not like that, mate," said Ron. Although he probably hadn't thought through every implication of what they had learned like Hermione, he had seemed to land on the most appropriate one to discuss. "I mean, are there pratts in the Wizarding World who wouldn't care for you? Sure! But I bet you've met some pratts among Muggles who don't care either, right?" Frisk slowly nodded. "Exactly. Being a pratt is not an exclusively magical condition. There are pratts all over!"

Frisk still looked unsure. But now Asriel stepped forward, his face set.

"Well I don't think you're pratts!" He giggled slightly at the word, and then marched over to the sofa.

"Asriel, what are you-?"

"What you did when you came to the Underground, Frisk!" His eyes had steel in them now, not unlike his mother, as he stuck out a fuzzy hand. "Howdy, Harry Potter. I'm Asriel Dreemurr!"

For the third time that day, Harry shook an unusual hand. Unlike the first two, this handshake felt much more like it was between equals, despite the difference in age and size.

"Nice to meet you, Asriel."

His parents gazed at the scene with astonishment, but also a little pride. Even Frisk smiled a little.

"I'm sorry." They choked. "I just, you finally turn up and all my thoughts about how bad it could be spilled out before I could stop myself." They clung to Asgore tightly. "Please don't send them away."

"We won't! We can't! We shouldn't! We mustn't!" babbled Hermione, allowing her more emotional understanding to surface before finally wrestling her mouth under control. The drama had affected her heavily. Ron gingerly put his arm around her shoulder.

Harry took charge. "Look, Frisk. As you probably overheard us explain, we're not part of any Wizard Government. Quite the opposite in fact. We have no power to decide what happens. However, I'm confident most wizards haven't a clue you're all here. And we do have friends who work at a Ministry. If we get a chance, we'll talk to them." 

Hermione had collected herself. "There's another thing; the spell that sealed you must have been incredibly powerful. Something that blocks passage without decaying for centuries. When Wizards went into hiding, they abandoned research into a lot of powerful spells. They were far too conspicuous, muggles might notice them. I don't think there's any witch or wizard alive that even knows the spell, never mind being able to cast it."

"And besides," added Ron, "even if some wizards get it in their heads to deal with you, it looks like you've got a lot of muggle mates. My dad's a bit of a nutter about Muggles, and while they're weird nutters themselves in a lot of ways, there are stories of them fighting like mad when wizards get their rag enough. You need good mates in a fight."

"We can't guarantee anything," concluded Harry, "we're barely of age ourselves, really. But from what we know, wizards aren't really in a position to seal you up again."

A shift in Asgore and Toriel's posture saw their shoulders drop a little. Harry hadn't realised how tense they had been. They both sat down again. Asriel climbed up onto his father's lap, while Frisk walked over to Toriel and held her hand.

"Miss Granger, may I ask something?" Toriel appeared to be better with names than Papyrus.

"Yes?"

"You mentioned that wizards have withdrawn from the wider world. Was this a formal agreement?"

"Yes. The International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy."

Toriel had the shrewd look she had entered the room with. "And I assume that all other magical creatures are covered by this?" Hermione nodded. "Whether they like it or not?"

Hermione looked uncomfortable. "Well, the statute charges the Ministry of each country with the responsibility of concealing all magic in their country, regardless of source."

"So where would that leave us? Are we in breach of this agreement?"

Hermione was deep in thought. Despite her previous delving into wizarding law, this was more the purview of an experienced member of the Wizengamot. Ron, however, was not bound by such knowledge of his limitations.

"Come off it. How can anyone accuse you of breaking a treaty you never signed?"

Hermione looked at him respectfully. "I think you're right, Ron. It was the Ministry of each Country that ratified the Statute. The Wizards of Ebott disappeared before that, so Ebott never had a Ministry to sign it. I think technically you're not bound by it."

"Which is not to say wizards may not suddenly decide we are bound by it regardless."

"Well, that's true," said Hermione, trying to keep afloat in water Toriel swam effortlessly through, "but it's like Harry said. Surely they would have acted by now. You haven't mentioned the possibility of human magic, have you?"

"Beyond the barrier, no. And even then only with the Governor. The price As... the price we paid for our freedom is not yet widely known, we wish to keep it that way until such times as we can conclude our efforts to make amends."

Hermione tactfully declined to ask about this. "Well that's the biggest advantage you have right now. You've come to the surface and revealed your own magic to the people of Ebott, but so far you haven't hinted about human magic. That would definitely have set off alarm bells. Best to keep it that way."

"If I may ask, how are breaches in this statute dealt with?"

"Well, it varies from country to country. The offending witch or wizard, if any, are put on trial, and the memories of any Muggles that witnessed it are modified to forget or misinterpret what they saw."

It was Toriel's turn to be deep in thought.

"Mom," asked Frisk, "do you think this secret business is why Mettaton can't seem to take his show abroad?"

"Yeah, that's probably it!" Asriel looked impressed at the detective work. "Good thinking, Frisk!"

"It is possible, my children."

"Erm, sorry?" Harry wasn't sure where this came from.

"Wizard indifference to our re-emergence is not the only question we grapple with," said Asgore. "Except in Ebott, the, um, 'Muggles' have been equally indifferent. Not to the point of not knowing us, but we have never been reported on in the news. The Governor was to set up meetings with other leaders, but never did. It's one of our sticking points. It feels like we've had the same conversation with him repeatedly-"

"Ohhhhhhh," Ron interrupted with a shrewd look. "Sounds like any wizards that do know about this place don't have a clue about how to deal with you, but they're determined to shut their lot up while they can. Nobody wants to go into Ebott - there's a superstition about it after the wizards vanished - but they can influence other countries to keep you on the quiet. And the Governor... I reckon somebody bit the bullet and snuck in to modify his memory. They were caught on the back hop with you lot turning up and there being no wizards to handle it, and now they're so busy with You-Know-Who they can't deal with you properly."

Asriel had caught it. "Who's You-Know-Who, Ron?"

Harry drew a deep breath, absently rubbing his scar. "It's... a long story. The simple version is he's causing a lot of trouble for wizards."

"Is it... violent trouble?"

"Yeah, mate. He's like the ultimate pratt right now. I'd steer clear of Britain at least, I haven't a clue what he'd make of you, but it wouldn't be good."

Asriel looked a little disappointed at this warning. Asgore finished his lukewarm tea as he pondered what he had heard.

"I see. Everything you have said makes sense, Mister Weasley." He had also bested Papyrus in names. "Despite your youth and having no idea of our existence this morning, the three of you have given us a great deal of clarity as to our situation. I'm grateful to you for this. This said, I can't say this is happy news, for it looks like we remain on unsteady footing until such times as wizards are ready to pay attention to us."

"Um, thank you," said Harry. "And sorry, I suppose. For, well, a lot of things."

"Do not take the past on your shoulders if it is not your past, Mister Potter," said Toriel. "We all struggle with our own past, there is no need to complicate the matter. Not when there is a future to build. Asgore, I believe you should advise against unnecessary travel out of the country, especially to Britain. And talk of human magic with humans should be strictly forbidden. It is best we do not add anything else to our tally if we can help it."

"Of course, Tori-Toriel." Asgore agreed. It was a well oiled dynamic when these two got down to business, Harry thought. Whatever had happened between them, when they put it aside they made quite a team.

"In the meantime, we shall continue to offer a hand of friendship to all who come to Domus Nova, monster or human, magical or not. The example Frisk set for us has already aided us many times since we emerged, and as Mister Weasley put it, having 'weird nutters' to champion our cause may be essential. Who knows, with focusing on our town perhaps the time shall _wiz_ by."

Everyone took a few seconds to digest this conclusion. Then Asriel snorted. Then he laughed. Then his mother joined him. Asgore looked even more stoic than when he had petitioned for parley, and Frisk had buried their face in their hands. It took the three of them a moment to realise she'd just made a pun. As it died down she got to her feet.

"Hee hee! Now, to less weighty concerns. Asgore, do you have enough food for dinner?"

"Well, I had meant to get some more as the children were meant to come round tomorrow, but Gerson's call distracted me."

"I see. Could you perhaps ask Undyne or one of the Royal Guard to bring some over? I think that after we have been such a burden on your guests, the least we can offer them is a warm meal." She looked at them and, for the first time since she entered the room, she projected a real sense of warmth towards them. It suited her. "I am still uncertain about such things concerning humans, but I believe you all look a little skinny. Would you care to stay for dinner?"

Harry could just not say no to these people.

* * *

Asgore had offered them more tea and biscuits, acting like a prison guard in making sure they had no reason to get up. But after Toriel had made her shopping list and Asgore called someone to get it, they insisted on helping get things ready. Asriel was delighted at this, as normally this was his and Frisk's job. His desire to see more human magic won out over Toriel's reservations, so Harry and Hermione waved their wands and cutlery and plates and cups flew to the correct places for seven diners. Eventually a large dog, taller even than Asgore and clad in armour, arrived with two bags of shopping, barked a greeting and left.

Toriel could have cooked for four by herself without trouble, but she wasn't used to larger meals and so asked for assistance. Once again Frisk and Asriel were given a reprieve, as Ron volunteered to help her out. This delegated to Harry and Hermione the important job of answering Asriel's questions about human magic, and possibly giving a few more demonstrations. Floating objects were old news now, so Harry took to changing the colours of what had been Frisk's brown and orange sweater. After several different combinations, he made the sweater green and yellow, and to his surprise Asriel's expression drooped.

"Do you still have it?"

"Yeah, right here."

Both children reached under their clothes pulled out lockets. From Asriel's blue jacket had emerged a gold locket, shaped like a heart with a big white 'A' on it. Harry and Hermione looked at Frisk's locket, which was similar but in worse shape. Instead of a letter there were only a number of deep scratches and traces of red.

However monsters cooked, it didn't take long. After setting everything to the right colour, they sat down. Toriel and Asgore sat at opposite ends of the table, their children to one side and Asgore's guests to the other. It was delicious. Equal to anything they had eaten at the Burrow. Ron, Harry and Frisk ignored the large bowl of snails, but Hermione joined in with the others in trying some, as she had done on holiday. As Harry had been interrogated before dinner, Toriel insisted Asriel refrain from bothering them while they were eating. But this rule was one-way. As the family talked about day to day life in the town, the guests found they could ask about it and monster life freely. Who was this, when did that happen, what did Jerry do now. After the main course, Toriel then proceeded to bring in a warm pie, smelling of cinnamon and butterscotch. Asgore in particular looked excited. When it had vanished, they sat content for a moment, curiously not feeling stuffed despite how much they had eaten, listening to Asriel recite what he had learned to his mother.

"...and they told us about the Wizard School they went to and how they fly on broomsticks because they're too heavy to fly with magic alone and Harry changed the colour of Frisk's sweater and then we showed them our lockets and-"

Harry's contentment meant he didn't react immediately as both Asgore and Toriel's expressions changed. Hermione picked up more quickly.

"Ah. That reminds me, Miss Granger. When Gerson called me earlier, he mentioned you asked him about lockets. He felt your description had too many details to be anything but a specific locket you already knew existed. If I may, why are you looking for such a thing here?"

The final difficult subject had arrived without warning. Harry had promised not to tell anyone else about Horcruxes, but if they already knew about the locket, if not what it did, how much more should he reveal?.

"Well," he began, aware of the thin ice on both sides of this path, "th-the locket is why we came to Ebott in the first place. The thing is..."

"A sneakthief nicked it," Ron suddenly jumped in unabashed. "He scarpered to Ebott, but claims he lost it in a cave in the mountain."

Frisk perked up with interest.

"And why have you felt the need to pursue it so urgently?" asked Toriel.

"Wellll," he replied carefully, "it's magical. And it can be dangerous. Not if you picked it up and then chucked it in the bin dangerous, but if you hung around it for ages, it might have some weird effects. We want to retrieve it and put it somewhere safe. It's the job we ended up with after leaving school."

It was about as close to the line as Harry or Hermione would have gone, but Ron had managed to explain their whole situation brilliantly. All they had to do was not act like this was news to them.

"I see," said Asgore, "do you know which cave it was lost in?"

"Yeah, round the eastern slopes. We checked out where the thieving git told us. There was a big hole at the back looking down on a flower bed and-"

Frisk, Asriel and Toriel looked stricken by this. Harry regarded them. "Sorry, are you okay?" 

Toriel recovered first. "My goodness, that sounds like where I..."

"It's the Ruins for sure, Mom."

"Yes, my child."

"The Ruins?"

"It is part of the Underground," said Asgore. "I presume you did not climb down and search?"

"No. We didn't have the equipment, and didn't want to risk getting lost."

"When was this thief in Ebott?"

"Oh, it would have been almost a year ago."

"Hmm..." Asgore stroked his beard. "Not all the monsters have moved to Domus Nova. Some prefer the temperatures the Underground provides. We also have an extensive mining operation going on for gold and rare minerals. It was one of our greatest pieces of leverage when establishing contact with humans. If you like, I can ask around and see if anyone's seen it, maybe organise a search party to sweep through the Underground."

"Y-you'd do that?" blurted Harry. "We'd really appreciate that, thank you!"

"Can you describe it? In full detail this time?" asked Toriel.

"It's all gold. Gold chain, big golden oval. Really heavy. You can't open it, that's part of the, um, magic. There's a big 'S' on it written in emeralds."

"It would be our pleasure to help!" said Asgore loudly. "However, erm, I was wondering if you could return the favour...?"

The three of them looked at each other. "I'm not sure what we've got to offer. I mean, we'd love to talk to the Ministry about you, but nobody will listen to us right now."

"Oh no, nothing like that, Mister Potter," Asgore raised his large hands in apology, "it's a little more mundane. You might have heard we're planning a festival to celebrate the anniversary of the barrier breaking."

"Yeah, a tall skeleton told us."

"You met Papyrus?" asked Asriel. "Cool! What does he think of you?"

"Well, we never told him we were wizards. But he reckons we're gonna be great friends."

"He says that to everyone he meets! He's usually right, though."

"Indeed," agreed Asgore. "In any case, I thought perhaps with your magic you could maybe speed our preparations up. I could rearrange assignments so the human townsfolk already helping us are elsewhere, to help with your secrecy problem. And you're welcome to attend the festival if we haven't found it by then."

"We have to go as soon as we find the locket," said Harry, "so if it's before the festival, we can't stay. But sure, we'll help while we're around. It's the least we can do."

"Wonderful." 

"A good suggestion," said Toriel. "I would have helped organise the preparations myself by now, but there is a lot to do for when school begins afterwords. Now, do you have arrangements to stay anywhere?"

"Erm, no. We were just passing through. If there's a camp site nearby we could set up our tent-"

"No." Asgore's tone was as friendly as it ever was, but it was also final. "That won't do. I won't have our first wizard guests lying in a field. Unfortunately our first hotel is fully booked at present. I've had to deal with queries asking when more will open. I have a spare bedroom you can avail of. I hope that's not too...."

"N-no. That sounds fine," said Hermione.

"Unfortunately you may have to cook your own breakfast. I'm not much good beyond cereal and toast." He chuckled.

"Um, Dad?"

"Yes, Asriel?"

"I know we weren't meant to come until tomorrow, but _canFriskandIstaywithyoutonight?_ "

Nobody missed his real reason for asking. Frisk didn't look too sure about the proposal, but didn't raise any objections.

"Only if your mother says yes." The line was well-rehearsed.

"You are not to bother your father's guests once they are in their room. They have had an unexpectedly busy day, it is unfair to keep them awake throughout the night."

"Deal!"

* * *

Asriel took advantage of his mother's prohibition by spending the rest of the evening pumping them for even more information. Ron had a great time telling him about Quidditch and his own personal triumphs, and Harry recounted the incident of the rogue bludger. Toriel had put a moratorium on any further magic shows and watched her son listen intently. The way both parents kept glancing at Asriel suggested to Harry this was a welcome change to his usual behaviour, though he didn't yet understand why. As the sun truly began to set, Toriel made her goodbyes and left, her children waving enthusiastically.

"Does she live far from here?"

"Just at the other end of this street. We normally stay with her during the week, it's easier for schoolwork."

About an hour later, after Asgore had relented in letting Asriel give a small display of stars he could conjure, Asgore insisted it was time for bed. He aimed his arm at the fire that was still happily burning. The flames left the un-charred wood, floated briefly in mid-air, and promptly vanished. Harry felt grateful for his calling time. He had a lot to unpack about the day. 

There were two beds in the otherwise plain guest room, clearly sized for Asgore and his sort. Harry offered to fish out a sleeping bag, but Ron and Hermione were happy to share. So he took the other and found it so soft and comfortable he was asleep in seconds.

_...and Harry was hurtling back out of those wide, tunnel-like pupils and Gregorovitch's face was stricken with terror._

_"Who was the thief, Gregorovitch?" said the high, cold voice._

_"I do not know, I never knew, a young man - no - please - PLEASE!"_

_A scream that went on and on and then a burst of green light-_

"Harry?!"

His eyes jerked awake. His sweat-drenched hands were already clutching his scar, which threatened to burst open with pain. There was another hand on his shoulder, where Ron had shook him awake. The screaming seemed to linger.

"Dream," he said automatically.

"Yeah I know. Was it-"

"Not your family," he said thickly. "Gregorovitch. Vo- You-Know-Who found him. I think he's..."

Ron looked pale.

"You're lucky Hermione's still asleep, mate. You know what she'd say."

"That you need to practice your Occlumency, Harry."

"Oh, Hermione! Didn't mean to wake you."

"Was I shouting?"

"No, just muttering."

"Then why can I still hear...?"

They finally listened. There was screaming in another room. Before they could do anything, a door crashed open. The screaming stopped, soon replaced with uncontrolled crying.

"I think... I think that's Asriel," said Hermione, looking concerned. "He must have had a nightmare or something."

They listened to the crying grow softer as two light sets of footsteps went downstairs.

"Blimey, he took to you today like a pig to mud, Harry," said Ron. "Maybe we overexcited him. I hope not, I'd hate to think we did that to him."


	6. The Woes of Mrs Dreemurr

Harry and the others were polite enough not to mention what they had overheard. After the threatened breakfast of toast, a mixture of monster and human children arrived at the front door and whisked Asriel and Frisk away. Asgore then proceeded to give them a personal tour of the town, though it was the townspeople who were the most interesting. Asgore seemed to agree, for he was more animated talking to them and about them than describing a statue someone had put up. They met Papyrus again, who seized Ron's arm before Asgore had finished his greeting and was in danger of ripping it off, clearly delighted they had befriended the King. True to his word, Asgore never mentioned anything about their magic. Not that it didn't come up.

The plans for the festival were ambitious: Lining the streets with food and games, exhibitions of Monster art, the rides of a human funfair had been bought and would be open for the week leading up to the anniversary, and it was all to climax with an open air concert in the park in the middle of town. Asgore introduced them to the headline performer. Even for monsters, Ron had difficulty wrapping his head around a flamboyant pink and black man who appeared to be made of metal. Harry and Hermione knew of robots from their Muggle childhoods, but it was brand new to him.

"Darlings!" cried Mettaton after Asgore had given their names. "Delighted you're willing to help my big show be a smash hit! And... _ooooooh_ ," he looked coy, "you're all wizards, aren't you?" He caught the surprised look on Hermione's face that confirmed his accusation. "Oh sweetie, I've been around the block a few times, you can't hide that from me."

"My apologies, I should explain, Mettaton here is one of the older monsters I mentioned yesterday."

"Was he always made of metal?" Ron wondered aloud. "Must have been hard not to rust for five hundred years."

"As if I'd keep the same body that long. I don't just keep up with trends, I set them!"

"I believe Doctor Alphys could explain it better,” sighed Asgore. “Mettaton, please keep quiet about their, em, abilities. The diplomatic situation surrounding them is complicated."

"It'll cost you, Fluffybuns! You know I've been dying to get you to the theater to see the opera about you Blooky and I wrote!" With a look of being outmaneuvered, Asgore nodded.

This wasn't the only time a monster got a point in advance of them about their magic. A yellow lizard, the aforementioned Doctor Alphys, stared silently at them for a moment, then launched into a high speed babble while shaking Hermione's hand incessantly.

"...and my goodness this confirms the source of magic is independent of any one species and that anybody could channel it and if we cross notes we might be able to- Oh, how r-rude of me, I'm sorry."

"Are you five hundred years old too?" asked Ron.

"Oh, g-goodness no, I'm, um..." the number was hidden behind mumbling. "But I r-read old accounts of monsters meeting w-wizards and I recognise the f-feeling. C-can we talk sometime? I'll bring c-coffee!"

With the tour concluded, they arrived at the funfair. It had been set up early, despite not opening for a couple of weeks. The problem was that all the seats were human-sized and shaped. Even if a monster was the same height and width as the average human, their wings or tails risked getting caught in painful ways. Asgore had rounded up a number of volunteers of various shapes and sizes, briefly introduced them to the three of them and finally revealed their magic, to much excited and nervous muttering. The volunteers were to test various rides, and Harry, Ron and Hermione would use magic to shrink or grow the seats as necessary, as well as modify them so that other appendages could fit comfortably. Modifying existing seats would be safer than trying to reverse-engineer and build whole new ones.

Hermione asked about whether to reinforce the seats for weight, but Asgore reassured her it was fine. Because monsters were so magical, they had very little physical matter, and this meant despite their size they were extremely light. To prove his point he asked her to lift him, which she did with ease, reporting that he was about as heavy as a small child. Since the seats had been built with the weight of humans in mind, they could certainly accommodate monsters.

Asgore then excused himself to contact the mining foremen, and then to attend to really important business. An hour later they heard a rumbling engine, and turned around to see Asgore operating a comparatively tiny lawnmower, tidying the grass outside the entry to the funfair with a content smile. In the meantime, the seat conversion was slow work, as Hermione had first insisted on taking stock by estimating the approximate ratio of different sizes and shapes that would attend. This included ensuring enough seats were left alone so normal humans could still enjoy the rides. And once she had worked this out, they were modifying one seat each at a time. Professor McGonagall could probably have made several seats several different sizes at the same time, but Hermione didn't want to risk breaking them trying it. Harry shrunk, Ron enlarged, and Hermione modified for wings and tails. 

Lunch was served by another skeleton, shorter and squatter than Papyrus, who acted as the human double. Hermione wanted to make sure the medium seats could still safely accommodate humans and monsters alike. Harry had the distinct impression that every time he got to sit down, he was falling asleep instantly. However when it came time to eat, he had briefly disappeared and then returned with a large supply of hot dogs.

"heh. bet you _wand_ -er how i did that." It was the first time he had spoken. Looked like they had another wordplay aficionado on their hands. He didn't add anything after that, but as they worked through the day he did pay close attention to them, even if they didn't notice.

After an otherwise uneventful day, Asgore led them back to his house. Along the way he explained how he had asked the foremen about the locket, and that hopefully tomorrow he would head up there in person to arrange more thorough search parties. They also stopped by the park to extract Frisk and Asriel from their friends. The latter was somewhat easier, since he appeared to standing at the edge of the group, lost in not thoughts that didn’t look particularly happy. Catching sight of Harry and his friends seemed to boost his spirits however.

"Last night was really rough. I think it was the worst one yet," whispered Frisk, glancing at their brother trying to walk alongside the wizards casually.

"By his description of what he witnessed, certainly," Asgore muttered with concern. "I had hoped their intensity would lessen over time."

Harry heard none of this, as he watched Ron and Hermione bare the brunt of Asriel's assault of what they thought of the town. He did see them with heads together however, and had a pretty good idea what they were discussing.

* * *

Dinner was considerably less complex than the previous evening. Asgore had been able to feed himself, but never availed of the flourishes Toriel would have put in her cooking. There were no snails tonight, a fact Ron just about stopped himself from noting. Aware that allowing his children to relax indefinitely at the expense of his guests would not be a good long term arrangement, Asgore had attempted to reassert the natural order by asking Frisk and Asriel to handle the dishes. However Harry volunteered regardless, freeing Asriel to listen to Ron give an account of the glories of the Chudley Cannons. For what had been a simple meal, there were a surprising amount of pots and pans.

"If you’d like," said Harry, "I can clean these up with a spell and then-"

"No thanks," replied Frisk. They were not in the mood to owe anything at that moment. Harry just shrugged and tackled one of the larger pots, while Frisk started on the plates. They worked in silence for a few minutes, before Frisk looked over at Harry's meticulous scrubbing. "For someone who could clean this up in a moment, you know your way around washing by hand."

"Oh, yeah. When I was growing up, I was the designated dish washer in my house."

"Your parents wouldn't just clean them with a spell?"

Frisk saw Harry take a deep breath. It looked like he was used to doing this. "My parents died when I was a baby. I grew up with Muggles."

"Oh. Sorry." They felt embarrassed for bringing it up, but their knot of uncertainty seemed to loosen a little as a common connection appeared at last.

"Is your brother alright?" asked Harry suddenly.

Frisk froze as the knot tightened again. Why would he ask about him like that?

"Yeah," they decided to respond with, "what makes you think he isn't?"

"It's just, he seemed a little down in the park."

"Well you fixed that right up, didn't you?"

Frisk's frustration with themselves showed on their face, and they didn't know if Harry would interpret it as anger towards him. There it was again. That unbidden instinct to deny him any benefit of the doubt. It felt so out of kilter with how they handled anyone else, human or monster. They didn't feel like explaining their own concerns about their attitude. But maybe they should try.

"He just had a bad dream last night, that's all. I guess you heard him last night?"

Harry shrugged again. "Didn't feel like our place to pry."

"Well, yeah, you’re right. But thanks. It's hard to..." They weren't even sure what they wanted to say.

"Does he have bad dreams a lot?"

"I..." Cut it out, no need to be so defensive. "Every now and then. They're not normally that severe. Are you an expert?"

"I wouldn't say expert. I've just had my fair share. My friends got really good at recognising when something was bothering me. It's why I thought about it when I saw him there."

"Oh." The plates finished, Frisk moved on to the cups. "Is it stuff you watch on TV or read about you dream of?"

"Wizards don't watch a lot of television. No, most of my bad dreams are about things that happened." He gently rubbed the lightning scar.

"Things that happened, or things you made happen?"

He had definitely picked up on the significance of that question. They tried to strangle a cup with the drying cloth. Couldn’t they have let that go? Their curiosity was going to bare their best friend's deepest secrets to a complete stranger.

"The first one mostly. Um, does Asriel-"

"I don't even know, really. When he talks about them they're situations that couldn't have happened. And then he won't talk about it again. I almost wonder if it's all symbolic for..."

"Well in my experience, they're pretty direct." He paused, taking Frisk in. "It's almost as if you're expecting him to have nightmares, but about something totally different."

Frisk dropped the attempted murder victim, and it shattered. Harry dried his hands and pulled out his wand.

" _Reparo_." The cup reassembled with a tinkling noise, Harry picked it up and handed it over to Frisk, before resuming the scrubbing. "Did something happen to-"

"Yes, something happened.” They looked defiantly at him. Maybe if they laid out the boundaries clearly, he’d pick up on them and leave iwell enough alone. "it was terrible, and I'm not going to tell you any more about it. I've no right to tell you, you've no right to know. I spent so long trying to help him, longer than you can imagine, and it feels like any improvement has been more due to luck than anything. But it's the wizards' fault in the end."

Harry looked annoyed for a moment, but took the rebuke in stride. Frisk wanted to smash the cup again at their last barbed comment.

"I understand," Harry eventually resumed. "Some wizards like to think they're the best in the world, but that's rubbish. Right now it's hard to call a lot of them good."

"You really think that?"

Frisk watched Harry absently scratch a bundle of scars on his right hand, and his face darkened for a moment.

"Look, part of me knows I should say sorry for what I said yesterday. How it's unfair to blame you for stuff you knew nothing about."

"Well that's-"

"But I don't _feel_ I should say sorry. I'm still angry. And I'm scared. I told you way too much, and you saw what that did to Dad. If I do that again..."

"Look, you don't need to spill the whole story to me." Evidently Harry had decided to lay his own boundaries out clearly. "I don't need to know, and it’s probably not anything we’re can help with. We're just helping out around town until we find that locket. I won't ask any more questions. But you're clearly worried about him. Maybe whatever happened is something you should discuss with your parents."

They worked in silence briefly, Harry now putting away the clean pans. Despite the agitation of the suggestion that Frisk bring up the full extent of Asriel's past against his will, Frisk noted with respect that Harry seemed to have no trouble acknowledging Asgore and Toriel as their parents. Maybe there was something about the orphan's perspective that made such things easier.

"Thanks for the advice. And sorry, I guess."

"You mean it?"

"I'm trying to mean it. But it's hard."

And it was. A large part of them still wanted to have nothing to do with the lot of them. But then seeing Asriel boldly offer friendship in the face of the unknown, like they themselves had done, put that part to shame. They weren't sure what they felt at that moment.

"Yeah, it can be hard. I should tell you about Ron's brother Percy if you want to know about apologising."

Dishes finished, they returned to the dining room, where a large box of purple donuts now lay. Pie was another thing beyond Asgore's abilities. Ron had bitten into one, but was now frozen mid-bite and looking curiously pale.

"What? I just told him they were from the Spider Bakery!"

* * *

The routine settled over the next couple of days. The three of them would modify chairs, take lunch in town somewhere - Ron vetoed getting more donuts - continue in the afternoon, spend an hour or two just watching the town go by, then back to Asgore's house for dinner. Toriel had finally coaxed the children back to her house, and while Asgore was a gracious purveyor of small talk, dinner conversations weren’t quite as energetic without his son. He outlined how he had organised the promised search parties. Starting from anywhere sunlight peeked into the Underground, in case Mundungus had gotten mixed up about which cave he visited, they would spread out and look for it. It had only been a few days, so Harry didn't push too hard for updates.

The next day, just after lunch, Harry was helping a frog that couldn't speak fit comfortably in a chair for the swing ride, when suddenly his scar flared up. It had prickled every now and then, and at least one more dream about Voldemort marching around unknown countryside crossed his path, but on this occasion no vision came. Only a feeling of... dominance. Whatever Voldemort was doing, it must be something different. The frog croaked inquiringly, but Harry was able to pass it off as a normal headache. It was then that the short skeleton, Sans, appeared with a bottle of water.

"i heard humans can get dehydrated," he said, "but i never knew _wat-er_ problem it could be." His fixed grin seemed wider.

Ron's supply of larger monsters to fine tune how large he made his seats temporarily dried up after lunch, a combination of personal obligations and being called away to help with some complications elsewhere. He had been determined to continue regardless, but Hermione wouldn't let him just eyeball the adjustments. If he made it too big and someone got flung into somebody else… he got the picture. So he sat on a normal swing chair idly watching Harry and Hermione work.

"You are not too busy, Mister Weasley?"

Toriel had strode across from the entrance towards him. Asriel followed closely behind, but he soon changed course to look at all the rides, and maybe torture the other two for more information about the Wizarding World.

"Nah, just stress testing this chair." He bounced in it a little. "Seems pretty solid. Now for the next one."

She smiled, clearly amused. "I was wondering, if it were alright with your friends, if you could assist me?"

"What with?"

"Well the day you arrived, you were of great help to me in the kitchen. The Ebotian Education Department have just sent me paperwork that must be filled out as soon as possible to extend our school's provisional license to operate, and I do not wish to delay the children's dinner to accommodate that. Perhaps you could assist me again? You are more than welcome to stay for dinner."

"Um, sure, shouldn't be a problem."

They walked over to Harry to pick up Asriel, who had been chatting animatedly with him and Hermione and watching more magic happen. They okayed the plan, and then the three of them set off towards Toriel's house.

"Where's Frisk? Figured you two were stuck together with spellotape or something."

"Yeah, I normally hang out with Frisk, but today I felt like having some quiet time. You ever get a day where you just need to unwind?"

"Not really. But then our house was always stuffed full of people and we're out in the country, and they don't like it when young wizards wander around on their own in case they do magic in front of Muggles, so it's hard to do that even if you wanted."

"Well sometimes I just like to wander around by myself. I did it a lot when I was younger..." Ron missed the sad smile that appeared briefly on Toriel's face,. "...and sometimes I get so caught up in my thoughts I even forget where I was going. I just did that today before bumping into Mom. That ever happen to you?"

"Just wait until you start doing exams, mate, then you'll really know when you're doing your head in."

Despite their estrangement, Asgore and Toriel had similar tastes in house design. It was almost exactly the same shape and size. Her lawn was much less ornate, simple grass with flowers allowed to grow any which way rather than Asgore's deliberate arrangements. Her lack of care for flowers were reinforced once they entered, where there was a single vase with some yellow ones. In lieu of plants there were ornaments and books. Some looked ancient, but there were a lot of new books about maths and history and geography and all sorts of other books for school, and what looked like Muggle novels. There were also a few joke books. The living room was clearly the domain of the children, as there were toys and comics and pencils strewn about. Her mantlepiece looked almost identical to Asgore's, capped off with the same old photograph of the family, the main difference being her presence in the newer photos rather than Asgore's. She frowned rather intently at having a guest see such a state.

"Asriel, I believe I told you to tidy up the living room this morning?"

"Um, yeah Mom, I’m sorry. I forgot because I was thinking about Lance and Ursk-" He dipped his head, regretting revealing this.

"Those two boys again? What have they done now?"

"Yesterday they... we were in the park, and they turned up and made fun of Monsterkid's tunic. They pushed him down again and his baseball hat fell off, and they took it and ran off."

Toriel flashed her steely look. "I had thought perhaps after the accident with their bicycles they may have rethought their ways. No matter. I shall be having words with Ursk's father this evening. I will not tolerate thievery from anyone who hopes to remain in my school. In the meantime, this does not excuse you from your own responsibilities. If the living room is not spotless in half an hour, you shall forego dessert." He gave a little 'eep' of panic that was almost a bleat, and ran inside.

"This way, Mister Weasley." She led him into the kitchen. Much like the living room it was more cluttered and untidy than Asgore's, probably from her more extensive use of its facilities. "First of all, I would appreciate it if you were to peel the potatoes in the sink there. The peelings then go in the brown recycling bin on the counter. When you are finished, place them in a pot of water and put them on a cooking hub. Turn it on, and also turn on the cooking hub where the steamer is placed. Keep an eye on it, if you let it go for too long the vegetables become mushy. Around half an hour should suffice. While they are cooking if you could wipe down and set the table for four, I would be grateful. Finally there is some chicken in the fridge, if you could unwrap it and leave it on a clean part of the counter, I will cook it once I am finished. I shall be addressing the paperwork in my study adjacent to the dining room if you need any help."

He didn't need any help. A lifetime in the Burrow left Ron no stranger to such tasks, and unlike Harry with the dishes he had no compunction of availing of his wand to speed things along. As the stack of potatoes shrunk, Ron looked up and briefly wondered where the wizarding radio was before remembering himself. It didn't take long to get them peeled and cooking, so he moved into the dining room. There was something spilled from the most recent meal upon it. Back in Grimmauld Place he had attempted a scouring charm when Hermione had complained of the effort they were putting Kreacher through. He ended up carving a deep scratch into what was probably an antique table. Figuring the owner of this table would care a lot more than Harry had, he resolved to use good old fashioned Muggle techniques. It was stubborn, but it eventually came away. He washed the rest of the table just in case, then summoned a clean dry cloth to wipe it down, and got out four sets of plates and cutlery.

The vegetables still had a good fifteen minutes to go, so Ron extracted the chicken, noticing a garlicky smell coming from one of the two prepared but unbaked pies resting above it. There was also a large chocolate bar resting on the highest shelf. He unwrapped the chicken as instructed and rested it on a plate. Looking around while waiting to turn off the hub, Ron noticed some dishes and leftover mess from what looked like a hearty breakfast on the counter on the far side of the room. Toriel mustn't have had time to deal with them that morning. Oh well, might as well.

" _Scourgify_."

The dishes became sparkling clean. Again not wanting to risk scratching his host's counters, he resorted to more elbow grease. He had just finished wiping it down when he noticed the time, so aimed his wand across the room and turned off the hubs, and moved the pots onto the two cold hubs.

"My goodness, that was quick." Toriel had returned, from the hallway. "I had just stepped outside to post the paperwork and ensure Asriel hadn't dawdled." She glanced at where breakfast had been. "I was not expecting you to clean up our own mess as well. You appear to know your way around a kitchen, Mister Weasley."

"Well, when you're the runt of the family, Mum often gets you to help out. This stuff is old hat."

"You are the youngest in your family?"

"I have a younger sister, but being the youngest of six brothers means you still often have to do stuff for everyone else."

"Seven children. I see..." She looked uncomfortable. Worried he had put his foot in it without even knowing how, Ron changed subject.

"Got a lot of practice recently. My brother Bill got married last month, and it was all hands on deck to clean up the house..."

Ron successfully distracted Toriel by talking about Wizard Weddings, which she listened intently to, not aware of his clumsy descriptions or mistakes. He also neglected the less than stellar ending to the first and only one he had attended. As he talked, he mashed the potatoes, while Toriel placed the chicken on a large pan. Instead of using the hob however, she flanked it with her large hands, and Ron briefly lost his train of thought as he watched her engulf the chicken in flames.

"Er, can all monsters control fire like that?"

"My family has a particular affinity for fire. Conjuring it, manipulating it, extinguishing it, it is almost second nature. Different monsters have different magical abilities. They can learn others, but it can be difficult to master."

Before long the chicken looked perfectly cooked, and Ron had finished with the potatoes. Toriel carefully placed the chicken and vegetables in the oven, then waved a hand at it rather than turn it on.

"That should keep it warm until Frisk returns. My goodness, I had not anticipated finishing so soon. Perhaps my plan was half _baked_?"

She gave a broad smile at the joke. Ron wasn't sure how to respond, but settled on respectfully getting it.

"Oh, 'baked'! Hah, good one. Right then, erm, is there anything else you want me to do?"

She glanced over at the now clean counter. "You appear to have done it already. And Asriel has fulfilled his responsibilities. He went upstairs to read a book. And yet it would seem silly to send you away. Frisk should not be that long."

"Fair enough, I can wait. Here, what's that?" Ron had eyed a checkered pattern resting on a cabinet in the dining room. "Is that a chessboard? D'you play chess?"

"...it has been a while." Toriel almost looked embarrassed. "I used to play with the King, but he was never a challenging opponent. And neither of my children have shown much interest."

"Well, d'you fancy a game to kill the time? I mean, I grew up with Wizard Chess, but the rules are the same. Probably less shouting involved. My friends aren’t great at it either."

So they sat down and played a game. Toriel had centuries of experience, but was rusty. Ron had last played before Harry left Privet Drive, but could never hope to catch up to the time she'd spent. It proved a good match. Ron was a naturally aggressive player, running around capturing pieces as the opportunity presented itself. Toriel's strategy reflected the sort of patience her long life had bestowed, denying such opportunities where possible. Eventually, Ron managed to recruit a second queen, but in so doing had left a bishop in an unfortunate position, and Toriel's patience paid off. The bishop was promptly captured, and Ron inexplicably found himself in check.

"And mate, I believe, Mister Weasley."

Ron was astounded, in a good-natured manner. "Been a while since I got beat like that. Want a rematch?"

"Why not? Perhaps this time you can avoid such a _rook_ -ie mistake." She was flush from victory and celebrating with another pun. Ron vowed not to lose, just to avoid more of them.

The next game lasted longer, as Ron was more cautious. Ironically, this encouraged Toriel to take a more aggressive stance, and when it was her turn to recruit a second queen, the move instantly put Ron in checkmate again. Arguing that third time was a charm, a final game began.

"You used to play with Asgore," Ron thought aloud, "so you used to be the Queen. Or are you still?"

Toriel expressed the type of stoicism those faced with such awkward questions need to muster.

"I have not considered myself Queen since we separated. Many monsters still think of me as such, and would obey my requests as they would his. But really, the only authority I feel comfortable wielding these days is that of Headmistress."

"Well why did you-?" He stopped his question dead in its tracks. Might as well have asked what she told a healer about her spattergroit.

Still, she felt honour-bound to answer. "We had a disagreement."

"What about," he didn't ask. None of the magic he'd seen from monsters had hurt anyone yet, but instinctively he knew it could if they wanted. Instead, he tried a compliment.

"Clever, thinking I'll take it with my bishop, but you forgot..."

His knight moved into battle instead. And the rook he had indeed noticed remained where it was, for now a bishop would just take it, and the resulting check wouldn't be worth it. She smiled.

"Did your brothers teach you to play?"

"Well I played a lot with them, but it was Mum that taught me." He pondered for a bit. "You're a bit like her."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. She's a good cook and she taught us all before we went to Hogwarts. But she's no pushover. We know not to cross her, and anybody makes things hard for her children better book an appointment at St Mungo's. Oh, that's a hospital."

Toriel thought through this. Ron began to suspect he'd put his foot in it again, because she rubbed one of her copper-red eyes.

"I can see why you might think this. But those are surface similarities. When things got hard for my family, I..."

Yep, he shouldn't have brought it up. Who was he, Hagrid? "Sorry. I didn't mean to..."

She gave a deep breath. "It is quite alright, my ch-" She looked shocked at herself for a moment, then regrouped and tried again. "It is alright, Ron. There are all sorts of everyday discussions that are painful for some. To avoid them all is madness."

The game proceeded by a few moves.

"The humans."

"Uh, sorry?"

"The six human souls. When Asgore made the decision to break the barrier, I opposed him. When I could not stay his hand, I left."

"Oh. Well, I can see why that would be a deal breaker."

"I thought you might."

"You did?"

"Yes. You did an admirable job joining in with your friends when Frisk revealed what we did. But I still saw it in your expression." Toriel had flipped the table. She'd been probing Ron long before he'd even thought of probing her. "You wish to condemn us," she continued, "or Asgore at least."

"Hold on, I said no such thing!"

"You do not have to."

"Look, I- Why bring this up with me? Surely you have some mates you could talk to about it."

"I suppose most of the townspeople would be willing to listen. But they would be listening to a Queen, and their counsel would reflect that. I do have closer friends, but their experiences are tied to the collected experience of the Underground. As outsiders, you and your friends offer a fresh perspective. After five hundred years, monsters could use that. You in particular are rather direct. I respect that."

"Come off it, when am I direct?!"

"Well when Asgore formally introduced himself, as King no less, did you not call him, what was it, 'mental'? Oh yes, he told me. And even while we are discussing this, you have just captured my queen."

"Well that's the game, isn't it? Totally different."

Toriel smiled. And then had a look of resolve. "I would like you to be direct right now."

Ron bowed his head, retreating into deep thought. The moves he made on the board were almost perfunctory. Finally he looked back up at her. "Look... I just don't know."

Toriel regarded him patiently.

"Seriously, I don't know! I mean... okay, yeah, I'm not a fan of killing, and it sounds like they never did anything to you lot. Does that disgust me? Of course it does! If you think I'm gonna say it was alright, you're barmy."

"...'But'..."

"But," he agreed, "that barrier. What else could you do? Especially when nobody up here knew you were trapped? I'd probably go stir-crazy myself. You really think he never should have tried?"

"I am not saying that, but to resort to murder..."

"I know, it's out of order, especially if he didn't try anything else."

She suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"Hang on, he did?"

"He... he had a program to try and break the barrier by other means. And it worked. It was why we did not need a seventh soul. I do not understand, Ron, if the first six are so abhorrent to you, do you think avoiding a seventh absolves us?"

"I told you, I don't know. But I..." It was hard to collect his thoughts on this. Why couldn't she just have gotten Hermione to tell her everything was fine? "if I was disgusted by what he did, I wasn't the most disgusted in that room."

Two pawns sacrificed themselves with neither owner paying attention.

"Whatever else he is, what Frisk pointed to is a man who hates what he did just as much as you do. And with what he was up against... isn't that enough? Well I don't know if it was enough, it's _really_ not my place to judge. Do you hate him that much?"

"...no, I do not hate him. But I cannot reconcile who he was before with the brutality of that decision. The thought he could do it, the fact that he did, was intolerable. As if he thought that would honour-" She stopped abruptly, and collected herself. "He backed himself into a corner, and would not accept counsel. I suppose I pity him."

"And come to think of it, if you thought killing humans was wrong, what did you do to stop it?"

"I told you, I tried to persuade-"

"No, what did you _do_? Not _say_. Couldn't you have deposed him or something if you felt that strongly?"

"The kingdom was whipped into a frenzy by his decree, they would never have accepted it. So I left instead. I tried to protect them. Any human who fell, I intercepted, and took them to my home. But dreams of the surface meant they never stayed long, so they left me."

"Wait a minute, you just let them go off on their own? Why not go with them?"

"I did not want..."

She faltered badly. Realisation flooded her face, accompanied by dawning horror. A thought occurred to Ron.

"Hang on. Was... was this personal? Didn't want to see what sort of monster he'd become? Oh damn, no offense."

She smiled again, but her eyes were looking far afield. "None taken. And... I think you are correct, I could not bare to see the twisted husk of the man I loved." She dabbed her eyes. "So much for my principles. I am just as pathetic as he was."

"Woah, hold on, you're not pathetic. Neither of you. We all get a bit carried away with dumb stuff. I mean, he went a bit farther than most, but the situation was complicated enough-"

"Mister Weasley," her voice was steady again, "please be direct with me one more time."

She didn't need to elaborate any further. Ron stared into her watery eyes, and felt like he was staring down a hippogriff.

"...I don't know. Sorry, but that's all I can offer. You were all shoved into a bad situation, and that made him do bad things and then you reacted badly to that... honestly, if I wanted to condemn anyone, it's the gits who sealed you up. Maybe dig them up and put their bodies on trial or something.” The morbid suggestion actually made her chuckle. “And you saw how Harry and Hermione took it, they've minds like open fields sometimes. They'll probably swing me round to their way of thinking in the end.” He broke her check with his final pawn. “Why do I get the feeling this disappoints you?"

"I... it is childish, but I have been waiting for the shoe to drop since the barrier broke. Like things are too good to be true, that something will ruin it."

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Sometimes good things happen too. Best not to fret while they're here. Hey, how'd the Muggle leader take it anyway?"

"He was very... pragmatic. Offered a blanket pardon. But I believe he was motivated by revenue from our mines. It felt dirty to offer in exchange for avoiding punishment, but it was better than having it hang over the heads of all monsters. And Asgore... he has been tracking down the families, sending anonymous donations. It will not be enough, but nothing ever can be."

"Well that’s something, I suppose. Blimey, whoever you got negotiating for you did a good job. Or, I dunno, maybe you just showed how Frisk took a liking to you." She grinned rather sheepishly. "You're kidding. Oh come on, you mean they...?"

"You'd be surprised at how persuasive they can be."

In the context of being locked in a battle of wits and philosophy with a magical goat, Ron could only shrug in appreciation.

"Well if you're looking for someone to call you all a pack of filthy murderers, I'm not the one. I just can't call it. But if you're still torn up about it, I think there's one bloke around here you could talk to. I reckon he knows a bit about it. And he's probably not as twisted as you might think."

She avoided looking at him.

"Maybe some day, Ron. I do not know if I am ready... or even if he is. It is as Frisk said, we have only begun to heal once the barrier was broken. We put on a united front for our children, but these scars are still fresh, and you know what picking at them feels like."

"It's a start," he shrugged, "and since you've gone and bared your soul to me, I might as well ask. Why did he decide to break the barrier in the first place?"

Conflicting emotions wrestled for control on her face. "A year ago this would have been easy to explain. But there have been developments since then. I would rather not discuss it."

He shrugged again. In the meantime, his bishop moved in and captured Toriel's other rook.

"I think... that's stalemate."

Toriel examined the board. "So it is. A clever move, Ron. Once more?"

"Nah, I'll quit while we're even."

"Very well. Thank you for the games. And for being direct."

As if to justify Ron's decision, the front door opened with a small babble of voices. They got up and headed in that direction to discover Frisk and their friends, and Asriel coming down the stairs too.

"Oh, hello Ron," said Frisk politely.

"Yo, As," cheered Monsterkid, "Look!" He was twirling a purple baseball cap with a spider emblem on the tip of his tail.

"Oh my," said Toriel, "Asriel said that hat was stolen. How did you recover it?"

"It was weird," said Jane, "we were in the park after lunch, and Lance and Ursk came up to us and offered it back. They apologised and everything."

"Hmm. I wonder if their parents did not have a word. Ah, all's well that ends well, I suppose. Although you can rest assured I shall be monitoring their behaviour once school begins again."

The party broke up, and the four of them sat down to dinner. However Toriel's magic kept the food warm, it was as if she had just finished cooking it the moment they ate. Every bit as delicious as the day they first arrived. She then retreated into the kitchen to prepare the pies.

"Hey, Ron?" Asriel was taking advantage of his mother's distraction to ask a quick question.

"What?"

"Where did Harry get his scar?"

"You what?"

"It just looks so cool, so I was wondering what happened."

"Blimey, that's a bit personal for me to just blurt out. Would you mind if I asked Frisk where you got your tail?"

"Well I've always had it-"

"Never mind, bad example. Look, why don't you ask him? He probably wouldn't mind telling."

The garlicky smell, which transpired was snails, arrived with the conflicting smell of butterscotch and cinnamon, and the discussion returned to the parentally-controlled small talk of how-was-your-day. There wasn't much chit-chat after dinner, and Frisk still looked uncomfortable in his presence, so Ron cut the evening short and rejoined the others, where he recounted the conversation he'd had.

"Well, I think you were right to criticise the wizards," said Hermione, "it's the same sort of pro-human prejudices they use to lord over centaurs and goblins and house elves. What gave them the right to decide the fate of a whole race?"

"But what if the wizards had a good reason for doing it?" asked Harry.

"If a monster committed a crime or something? Then why not just arrest that monster? And even if they did, you remember what that slime monster said, how there are only a few left from before being sealed? The vast majority today did absolutely nothing."

"I know. Still, it was a drastic thing to do."

"That wizards _made_ them do. Though I suppose it might have been kinder than enslaving them like elves."

"True," he said darkly, "and I do think they've been through enough. With You-Know-Who running around we'd have a lot of gall to judge them."

Ron let the back and forth of Hermione's righteousness and Harry's nuance wash over him, soothing the doubts he had about the situation. It felt like old times.


	7. Fight and Flight

Two days after the chess games, the funfair was ready. There were more than enough seats for all shapes and sizes. Asgore himself tested their handiwork by riding on the larger chairs of the swing ride, while his children watched with envy. For someone who had presented himself to them with at least an attempt at dignity, the big goofy grin on his face as he enjoyed the ride was quite the contrast, even if it was marred by his crown flying off his head, bouncing off Harry's hastily conjured shield charm. He gave a fuzzy thumbs up to the experience while Hermione smoothed out the dent over Asriel's stifled giggling.

It was still too early to set up for the concert, so Asgore suggested they help put up banners and decorations around town. Their magic wouldn't be quite as useful out here, as it was impossible to regulate the flow of people going about their business. They weren't restricted to muggle means though, as the monsters they were paired with were openly using their own magic for a variety of purposes, so with a bit of practice of nonverbal magic and surreptitious wand placement it was impossible to tell where certain unusual effects were sourced from. There was plenty to hang up as well; the monsters had resolved that not a single street or road or back alley was to go undecorated. For this first anniversary they were going all out.

They had been at this for a couple of days, and were in the middle of discussing a bookshop that had been broken into on the street they had been working on, when Asgore made another request. Doctor Alphys had been calling him once or twice a day since being introduced, hoping to set up some time with them. As she had drilled into Asgore’s head, re-learning how humans used magic could have benefits for their own use of it. Hermione volunteered, partly because the boys, by their own admission, would be useless at answering more complex questions, and partly because it was an opportunity for her to learn about monsters in kind.

So she went round the next day. Despite witnessing Asgore make the call confirming the appointment, when Alphys opened the door to her lab she promptly squeaked and shut it again. And then opened it again, apologising profusely as she had allowed her excitement to turn into nervousness. Over the promised coffee, the morning was one part informal chat, one part simultaneous two-way interview. Hermione explaining the rigorous study it took for wizards to do anything with any degree of control, while Alphys talked a lot about souls. Hermione's impression was that monster magic was practically second nature to them, even children. Humans reading about how to do it like they did would be like a brick reading up on how to breathe.

"...and if we don't enunciate the incantation precisely on the second flick, the spell has a tendency to conjure a small snowstorm instead of-"

"Huh. That's interesting."

"The snowstorm?"

"Not that, specifically. I just realised, the way you p-put it, wizards spend a lot of time focused on what to do and how to do it. B-but you haven't talked a lot about w- _why_ things happen when you do them a certain way. Do you know what it is about g-getting the spell wrong that creates the snowstorm?"

Hermione thought hard for a moment. "Well, no. I just know that I've practised hard enough to avoid it..."

"It may not be my place, H-Hermione, but 'what' and 'how' only get you so far without 'why'. I could read a book about how to wire a l-light bulb up and follow the instructions and it would work, but since I know how electricity works, I was able to wire up this whole l-lab without having to follow explicit instructions. Do you see the difference? If you have a framework for understanding how you interact with magic, that would allow you to dev-develop your own spells. Is magical theory taught at your school?"

She was thinking hard again. Criticism of gaps in her knowledge brought stabs of annoyance, like she was back in Divination. But getting past that, Alphys was making a very interesting point she hadn't considered.

"Well, not particularly, beyond a few basics when we started. Now you mention it, we don't get much of the 'why'. I'm sure it's out there."

"If I may, th-that doesn't sound very scientific."

"Isn't applying science to magic a contradiction?"

"Of course not! I'm a creature of magic," she allowed electricity to spark around her claws for a moment, "b-but I'm also a scientist. Don't confuse non-magical technology with science. Science is really j-just a way of examining the world, including its more i-interesting aspects. There are researchers among w-wizards, right? They do experiments, see what works and what doesn't?" Hermione nodded. "That's science, really. But it's incomplete. Without a basic understanding of how magic works, a lot of it is probably blind g-guesswork. Aren't there any real innovators?"

"Well, Ron's brothers made up a bunch of clever stuff, and they didn't even finish school. And a few months back we discovered a number of spells that were invented by..." Her train of thought ground to a halt as the hook-nosed sneering face of the Headmaster of Hogwarts lingered in her mind, and of his crimes. Alphys hadn't picked up on it.

"Unless they were working on it for years, odds are they at least t-tried to understand why certain words and wand movements produced certain effects. M-maybe you should talk to them about it. It can only improve your own magic. And maybe wizards could figure out how to record experiments on f-film or computers?"

"That would be really hard," said Hermione. "In our experience, electronic stuff goes haywire when exposed to a lot of magic. Around our most magical sites, you'd be lucky if you could turn a television on."

"R-really?! That's fascinating! Wait a moment."

Alphys scurried out of the room. A minute later she returned with two trollies in her wake, each with some sort of instrument on it she proceeded to plug in. They both gave off identical beeps and readings Hermione could not make sense of.

"Could you cast a spell around one of these?"

Hermione stood up, interested in where this was going. She pulled out her wand and aimed at the one on the left.

" _Protego._ "

The trolley distorted slightly in the faint shimmer of the spell. Through the shield, the beeps began to fluctuate wildly, and the readings changed dramatically. Then the instrument began to vibrate. Then there was a sparking noise, the instrument shut off, and a bitter acrid smell reached their noses as wisps of smoke began to unfurl from it.

"Oh, I'm sorry!"

"No, n-no! That's astonishing! If I may ask, what is that spell supposed to do?"

"It's a Shield Charm. Minor spells bounce off, and stronger ones are blunted."

"That's a good choice. I c-can do something similar."

Alphys raised both her hands at the trolley on the right. With more sparking and crackling noises, a bubble of lightning seemed to form round it. Unlike its late twin, the instrument remained quite unperturbed, even for several seconds. Eventually, she let the bubble vanish.

"This is incredible! Human magic must be channelled through the electromagnetic spectrum on one level or another. That would be the likeliest explanation for why it disrupts electricity like that. Maybe all your physical matter shunts the magical energy into that range as you tap into it. It's strange, because the magic of a human soul is perfectly compatible with monsters, on the rare occasion they... absorb..." Her speculation halted as she began to wring her hands.

"Are you alright?"

"Oh, s-sure! I, uh, I j-just thought about what the K-King went through to f-free us all and how he h-hated it."

The increase in stuttering wasn't lost on Hermione. She wondered if there was something else at work, but it wasn't her place to push.

"Th-that reminds me! I want to check s-something out."

She darted out of the room again. Hermione heard her digging through drawers. Eventually she returned with another device.

"This is a d-device to monitor the p-properties of souls, at least as we understand it. Watch!"

She held it over her chest. Hermione watched as a white, upside down heart appeared on the screen.

"Monster souls normally look like this. Do, do you m-mind if I...?"

"Oh, no, go ahead."

She hand held the device over Hermione's chest. After a moment she looked excited.

"Oh, wow! Look at this!"

She turned it around for Hermione to examine. Her soul too was a heart, the right way up and a deep blue, but with a thin outline of white surrounding it.

"Why are they different colours?"

"Well, human souls are a number of different colours. There are forces a human can withstand because of their physical nature, and these forces tend to colour the magic in your soul. It depends on their personality. For example, this suggests you are a person of great integrity. But that white outline is new! Every non-magical human I've examined just had a solid colour. I think it tells us that white is linked to our magical abilities. I mean, we knew that already, but we always thought it was more to do with LHC."

"I'm sorry?"

"No, I am. Love, Hope, and Compassion. It's what defines monsters. Human souls are steeped in their physical matter, and those forces I talked about can sustain them, though my research suggests souls of every kind contains LHC, even if humans don't ever have to use them. But monster souls are reliant on them. Because we're so magical, our bodies are mainly projections of our souls, and we're at our healthiest and strongest when we embrace our positive emotions. Happiness, excitement, wonder, these are part of it, but it's LHC that have the greatest effect. A monster that goes without them for too long gets weaker, and then they get ill, and eventually..."

The conclusion was uncomfortable. Hermione got the gist however. She also noted in the excitement of her discovery, Alphys' stammer had disappeared.

"That can happen to wizards too. I mean, we can despair without it being fatal by itself, but long term depression can hamper our powers. A friend of ours suffered it for a while."

"F-fancy that. There was something like that suggested in the history books, but without a wizard to confirm-"

"History books? About magic?"

"Oh, um..." Alphys blushed. "Well, we th-thought they were history books. At the time. Then I r-realised what they really were but I didn't have the heart to c-correct everyone. They were so exciting!"

"So they turned out to be just story books?"

"Uh, yeah! Everyone knows now of course, especially when n-nobody could see a-any cat ears. We like to keep up with them now. And their TV shows. Heh, when we get together to t-talk about it we call it 'history class' as a joke."

Hermione proceeded to learn about how Monsters had been able to piece together snippets of the outside world by assorted debris that wound up in the Underground. It certainly explained how advanced their technology was, it was unlikely you could make those breakthroughs with just the resources of a mountain. Their history must have been so confused.

The rest of her visit was Alphys showing some of this technology, including a device that behaved a lot like her beaded bag. A lot of it was equivalent to a spell or a potion she could have availed of, but there were some things she never heard of wizards being able to do. Then Alphys' phone rung and whoever was on the other end she had to cut the meeting short, so she thanked Hermione endlessly until she walked out and closed the door behind her.

Hermione had a lot to take in. Alphys' whole perspective was one she hadn't considered before. From her Muggle childhood scientists were people who used chemicals and technology to invent things. Perhaps that was still the case, but there were methods behind it she hadn't considered for all her logic. Did Muggle Studies teach this later? She doubted it, her own time with it had those same problems. What Muggles did and how they did it, but never why. Unless the why was "they can't use magic". What an unlikely source of such an insight.

It was just past lunchtime, so before tracking down Harry and Ron she paid a visit to the Spider Bakery. Judging by the proprietor's multi-limbed appearance, Ron had been right to refuse to go there. While she waited on a croissant and some tea. She mused on what Alphys had said about science and magic, and it cast the words "hopelessly mundane" in her mind. Instead of resentment, today the words invited challenge.

Making sure nobody was looking, she took out her beaded bag and summoned a book. _Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling. She had memorised it back in first year, but hadn't looked back at it since. She began to re-read it, and actually took the time to ponder what it meant.

* * *

" _Magical Theory_?" asked Harry that evening, eyeing the book in her hands. "Blimey, it's been a while. I thought you'd be translating Beedle or something."

"I've been doing that too. Doctor Alphys just gave me some food for thought, that's all. And I suppose it's a change of pace from solving a mystery."

"Yeah..."

Considering the mysteries that were on his plate, Harry couldn't agree with her completely. That whine of concern about the Horcrux, so suppressed by learning about monsters, had started up again at dinner when he'd finally broached the locket with Asgore.

"Nothing yet, I'm afraid. We've swept the Ruins and searched Snowdin Town, but there is no sign of it."

His children had joined them again. Frisk still looked wary, but there was no sign of that hostility they'd opened with. Harry had endured worse attitudes at Hogwarts, and this felt much more understandable. Meanwhile Toriel's absence left Asriel free to grill them about wizards again. He did seem to dance around a question he wanted to ask, but not in front of his father. Harry caught Ron giving a knowing look at him.

"Hey Dad," said Asriel suddenly, "can... um... _CanIgowithHarrytomorrowandhelpout?_ "

Asgore looked slightly surprised, but also pleased. "Well it's up to them, but I'm delighted to see you wanting to help."

Ron stole the thunder. "Sure! Be a laugh, won't it?"

"Yeah!" He turned away from his father. "Frisk, you should come with us too."

Frisk also looked slightly surprised, but less pleased. "Um, I'm not sure if..."

"We won't bite, mate."

"I actually think that is a good idea," said Asgore. "It may help you get past your apprehensions about them. Think of it as... ambassador training."

Harry darted between Asriel's eager face and Frisk's reluctant expression. It was obvious how this would go.

* * *

The next day, the five of them were putting up decorations on Torgore Avenue. The two children were useful, for while it was a quieter back street they could serve as lookouts, giving a moment's warning that allowed them to work with magic more freely than elsewhere. Asriel's price was low, in the form of more wizard stories, and Frisk listened too despite their ambivalence. Today it was the Tri-Wizard Tournament, the summary of which took much of the street.

"And as we raced towards the cup, a giant spider came out of nowhere." Ron shuddered. "Cedric dodged it, but I got scooped up and it sank it's bloody great fangs into my leg. It hurt like hell. Then I managed to get it to let go of me, and we worked together to stun it. And then when we touched the cup..."

Harry faltered. He'd been so caught up in dodging dragons and chasing off grindylows he had forgotten the conclusion to the story.

"And then what?"

It wasn't Asriel who asked, it was Frisk. To everyone's surprise they wore a look of interest.

"Well..."

"There was an accident," said Hermione, "and Cedric, he..."

Frisk showed a moment's shock, which melted to fury.

"Ugh, I'm trying to get to know you and I dig up something like-"

"Frisk, no," said Asriel, "I made him tell the story." He twisted his ear as he looked up. "I'm sorry, Harry."

"It's alright," he said dully, "neither of you could have known."

"I'm sorry too. First I remind you you're an orphan and now this. So much for getting to know you."

"Oi, none of that," said Ron. "After all, there are all sorts of everyday discussions that are painful for some. To avoid them all is madness."

Hermione looked mildly impressed. But-

"Heh. Mom told you that, didn't she?"

He shrugged in defeat. "Doesn't miss a trick, this one."

Frisk smiled at the compliment, while Asriel laughed. Apparently he also decided it was time to change the subject.

"Um, Harry, there's something else I've been wondering about."

"What?"

"Where did you-"

"HEY!"

They turned to a gymnasium at the end of the street, where a tall blue scaly monster with large razor sharp teeth was approaching them. 

"Howdy, Undyne!"

"Hey there, Prince!" She observed the humans intently. "So you're the wizards, huh? Yeah, that weird feeling's exactly like Alph described. She told me about working with ya!" She was looking at Hermione. "Also helps that I saw you floating that banner up from the window of my gym."

"Oh, yes. Undyne, was it? Talking with Doctor Alphys was fascinating, I learned a lot from her."

"Hah! Glad somebody did, she tries to explain to me what she's working on and damned if I can understand a quarter of it! Oh, by the way kids, you still on for movie night tomorrow with the gang?" They nodded enthusiastically. "Great! Now, Miss Wizard, we gotta fight."

"I don't- What?!" spluttered Hermione.

"You think I'm gonna miss out a chance to spar against human magic?! Dream on! I gotta be ready just in case, you know?"

"Yes, but... we don't normally just challenge each other to a fight."

"I dunno," mused Ron, "there was the Duelling Club with Professor Lock-"

"Oh shut up." She had turned pink.

"I thought Wizards were made of sterner stuff than this! They had a big enough set to seal us all away, didn't they?!"

"Merlin’s Beard, don't do her head in, it's obvious she doesn't want to!" yelled Ron, stepping in front of her. "If you fancy a punch up, I can do it instead-"

He found himself shoved aside. There was a time for chivalry, and he had misjudged it.

"I can decide for myself, Ron!" Looking at Undyne's single yellow eye. "Alright."

"Hah! You've got passion in there, kid! You're like Alph! And don't worry, I won't hurt you, if you know what you're doing. This way!"

They followed her into the gym. Much like the funfair, there were machines and weights of sizes in a much greater range than a normal gym might have had. It also felt unusually cool and damp. Undyne led them into a room with a completely padded floor and walls, save the wall facing the door which was mirrored.

"I teach self-defence here. It's good for magic practice, too. You four, over there."

They were directed to a bench along one wall, and sat down. Asriel looked excited, while Frisk smiled in anticipation. Hermione brandished her wand.

"That's the spirit. I'll make this simple on you: First one off her feet and on her back loses. Begin!"

"Begin? Wait I- _Protego!_ "

A blue spear with a blunted point that hadn't existed a moment before bounced off the shield charm. It fell to the ground with a clatter, then vanished.

"Your enemy won't wait. Keep up or go home!"

She was fast. Darting left and right around the room, flinging more spears at Hermione. More shield charms caught most of them, but one hit her shoulder and almost knocked her off balance.

"Defending just means you lose later instead of now! Strike back, you punk!"

" _Expelliarmus!_ "

Undyne's latest spear was flung out of her hands, spinning towards Ron before Asriel managed to tug him out of the way. It was academic, as it vanished before it reached them.

"Neat trick. Unfortunately-" Holding out her arm, another spear appeared. "-there's more where that came from!"

" _Stupef-_ "

Undyne was moving in close now, thrusting with the spear in her hand. Hermione was totally unused to such maneuvers, and it was amazing she managed to jump clear of a sweeping strike meant to trip her up.

" _Avis!_ "

Undyne was distracted by a sudden flock of birds appearing between her and her target.

"What the hell, where did-"

" _Oppungo!_ "

The birds moved in, pecking at her. Hermione took a step back and lined up her wand, but before she could speak, a large, particularly brutal looking spear appeared and swept around Undyne in one smooth motion. Most of the birds were swatted clear, vanishing as they smashed into the ceiling. Cleaning up the stragglers with a second sweep, Undyne closed the distance once again.

"Go Undyne! Come on, Hermione!" both children were shouting, and it was hard to make out who supported who. Harry could have sworn they had changed sides at least once. Ron was much more consistent. "Curse her eyepatch off!"

Harry was learning how vulnerable wizards could be when forced to engage in close quarters combat. It was hard to aim a wand and enunciate a spell when you had to be constantly on the move. This was probably why nonverbal spells became a thing. Hermione seemed to be thinking the same thing. Doing another clumsy backwards jump that she almost fell from, she bought herself just enough time to aim her wand. There was a flash of light.

"Woah, what-"

Undyne was hoisted into the air by her ankle, now floating in the middle of the room. She immediately began to flail wildly and curse to match it.

" **NGAHHH!!!** No good dirty punk wizard trick let me down and fight properly!"

Hermione put a bit of distance between them, just in case. "Alright then."

With another flash of light, Undyne’s ankle was released. Most people subject to this spell would have landed in a heap on the floor, but Undyne was not most people. The moment she was released she twisted with surprising grace and landed on two feet and one hand. 

"You're gonna have to try a little harder than _that!_ "

Even as she got up again several more spears flew at Hermione from multiple directions. Her latest shield charm barely caught them all. She wasn't waiting for the next attack however.

" _Stupefy!_ "

The red light soared past where Undyne had been before dodging, hitting a padded wall which absorbed the spell with no ill effects. Again, Hermione wasn't waiting.

" _Petrificus Tot-_ "

It was Hermione's turn to dodge as Undyne bore down on her with bare fists. Caught up in the movement, Hermione's instincts stupidly told her to punch back. To her surprise, her inexperienced fist made contact. For all the good it did.

"Hah! I've gotten harder lovetaps from Alphys!"

" _Taranta-_ " Dodge. " _Relash-_ " Dodge. " _Incarc-_ " A sudden high kick sent her wand arm askew, and she very nearly lost her wand in the process.

The close quarters was backing her into a corner. With dwindling room to maneuver it was only a matter of time. But the spells Harry thought of couldn't be cast under such pressure. That was when a desperate idea occurred to her.

" _Lumos!_ "

Not needing to point at anything to cast the spell, the wandtip burst into bright light. And now she pointed it directly at Undyne's lone eye. It had the desired effect. She was momentarily dazzled and raised her hand up to block the light. Her last mistake.

" _Stupefy!_ "

Another flash of red light. And then Undyne fell backwards onto the floor.

Asriel was by her side at once, face full of worry. He listened closely, and seemed to relax a little when he realised she was breathing.

"Is she okay?"

" _Nox._ It's just a stunning spell, she should be fine. Harry, help me lay her out properly. There we go. Give her some room, everyone. _Rennervate!_ "

Undyne's yellow eye reappeared. It was probably a good thing Asriel and Frisk were the first things she saw, because for a split second it looked like she was about to resume the fight, not realising she had lost. Her large pointy teeth rearranged into a snarl, and a loud curse erupted from it.

"Of all the dirty rotten tricks a damned dirty coward could pull that was..." The snarl mutated into a grin of equal intensity. " **GENIUS!** Fuhuhuhuhuhuhuhu!"

"You... you're not angry?"

She was getting to her feet again. "Well yes, I'm absolutely livid. But you did what it took to win! And you taught me something to watch out for!"

Having gotten to her feet, she immediately turned to face Asriel and knelt on one knee in a demonstration of respect.

"Hope ya learn from this, Prince. You know I talk about fighting honourably, and I sure as hell mean it! But your enemy won't. Even when I train perfectly friendly humans they've shown a devious streak and a desire to win that you gotta watch out for. I got a new trick to be wary of out of this, so it's no shame to lose like this. Hey you, put 'er there for a good challenge!"

She had stood again and turned back to where Hermione had been, only to see Hermione sitting where the boys had earlier, breathing heavily.

"Hah! You wizards need to jog a few miles in the mornings! But I know one thing: You're all coming to movie night! Pap will love to hear how you beat me, even if it was just a fluke!"

Hermione continued to pant and make a grunt of gratitude.

* * *

Time and location for the next evening all confirmed, they got back to work. For the first time they weren't peppered with requests for stories. Asriel and Frisk had instead started up an intense discussion of the fight, debating how Undyne could have won if only she did this or that instead of the that or this she could have done.

"But summoning those birds was so cool! Maybe if she summoned a bear or something she'd have won even faster!"

"Um, I couldn't do that," said Hermione, slightly pink from the fawning praise she was getting, "that type of transfiguration, conjuring something out of nothing, is immensely difficult. If there was a rock or something I could change it into a bear-"

"See?! You're so cool!"

"Come on Asriel, I thought Undyne was your friend."

"Well yeah. But so are they!"

Harry was taken aback slightly. "Really? We've only been here a week, and you haven't seen that much of us."

"Aw, that's nothing. Frisk and I were friends in less than a day! And Undyne tried to kill them when they first met, and now they're friends too!"

"Bloody hell, no wonder you got to be ambassador." Ron hadn't picked up on the fact Asriel's story had been entirely literal.

"Yeah, and Undyne's a tough one. Did you know she can suplex boulders? And she runs marathons to wake up in the morning and she used to be Captain of the Royal guard but she always tries to protect a monster in trouble. Aw, now I'm a little sad she lost."

"Here, I thought we were your mates."

"Well yeah. But so's she!"

Asgore chuckled heartily at dinner as his children recounted the match to him, and they all earned a story from him about how he had trained Undyne and it actually wasn't that long from when she first defeated him. Harry replayed the fight in his head, noting how Hermione had barely been able to hold her own, and privately felt intensely grateful that Asgore seemed impossible to anger. However his jovial mood was dampened by Asriel pleading he negotiate with Toriel for another night at his house, so he could go with them again tomorrow.

Ron had been throwing compliment after compliment at Hermione to punctuate the children's story, and she was in no mood to rebuff them. This continued even as they finally retired to their bedroom.

"And the way she cursed at you. Blimey, you're doing something right when someone's that pissed off at you."

"Oh Ron, you don't have to-"

_CRACK._

"What the-?!"

A tiny wrinkly figure stood in the middle of the room. "M-Master," he croaked.

Hermione pointed her wand at the door. " _Muffliato!_ "

"Kreacher?! Is everything alright?"

"Master... Master told Kreacher to come to him if something happened to the house. And..."

Ice flooded Harry's stomach. "What happened?"

"Kreacher heard the front door open, heard his old mistress scream, and Kreacher came to the hall, and there they stood. Four hooded figures Kreacher could not see, and Sturgis Podmore."

"Sturgis Podmore?!" cried Hermione, "but he's in the Order. Why would he tell the Death Eaters?"

"Podmore stood perfectly still, and Podmore's eyes were blank. Master Regulus described this to Kreacher once, Kreacher believes he was under the Imperius Curse."

"Hermione," asked Harry, "can a secret keeper be forced to give up the secret like that?"

"Well normally I don't think so. That's the point of the Fidelius Charm, it can only be voluntarily divulged. Doesn't stop them from torturing it out of you, but magical compulsion shouldn't work. But this charm was diluted after Dumbledore died. The Imperius Curse might have been enough."

The ice flowed outwards to his limbs. They had lost their one refuge. Whenever it would be they returned to Britain, they would be out in the open.

"And... and what did they do next?"

"One hooded figure ordered the others to search the house. And then he took off his hood. Kreacher recognised him as Yaxley. He told Kreacher that Kreacher was to submit himself to the Ministry for questioning about who had been in the house."

Harry had dreaded this moment. The test of Kreacher's loyalty. "So... what did you do?"

"Kreacher refused. Kreacher had his orders, Sir. Kreacher was to come to Master Harry. Yaxley tried to seize Kreacher anyways, and Kreacher threw him back with a jinx. And then Kreacher fled the house and disapparated."

A moment's relief dulled the great sense of loss Harry felt. "Thank you, Kreacher, you've done well. Okay, um, for the time being, I forbid you to return to Grimmauld Place. We don't want you questioned. And for that matter, I forbid you to cooperate with any requests or orders given by the Ministry without my express permission."

"Very well, Master."

"What are we gonna do with him?" said Ron. "We can't keep him round town, can we? The Muggles might spot him."

"Well they might think he's a monster."

"Until the monsters say they've never met him before."

"Well why don't I send him to Hogwarts like last year?"

"Harry, Snape runs Hogwarts now, he'll recognise Kreacher. And whatever orders you give him to stay silent, Snape knows Legilimency."

"Good point. Oh, I know." He cleared his throat. "Kreacher, I want you to find Remus Lupin."

His face screwed up in distaste. "The werewolf friend of the ungrateful brat who broke my Mistress' heart?"

"The very same," he brushed off the jab, "and when you do, I want you to place yourself at his service, until such times as I call for you again. I forbid you to tell him where we are, just to be safe. And, um, if you could tell him I'm really sorry about our last meeting, I'd appreciate it."

Kreacher wasn't completely happy with this arrangement, but there was nothing of the loathing he once showed at all times.

"Kreacher will obey, Master." And with another crack, he vanished. Hermione lifted the spell.

"Well, at least we know he can apparate to Ebott if we need him to. Harry?"

He sat down on his bed, feeling utterly dejected.

"They're probably going to kill him."

"Wha- Sturgis?! Oh Harry don't-"

"He's probably standing there right now until they're done searching, and then they'll dispose of him. Or send him to Azkaban if he's lucky." He gave a hollow laugh. "And we're here, safe and sound. Who else have they rounded up?"

"Harry, you know why we're here-"

"Why we're in a beautiful part of the world while a whole race is looking for the locket for us while we put up signs? While a young boy looks up to us, and if the Death Eaters ever come here they'll probably all suffer for knowing me? While more people back home die under his rule?"

"Look, I know you want to go back-"

"Yeah, I do! Better than throwing more people between me and him!"

"You promised Asgore! And besides, we'd have to come here anyway. We need to know where the locket went! Tell me, if you went back, where would you go? Have you figured out where another Horcrux is?"

"...no."

"Exactly. Harry, I'm just as horrified they got Sturgis, but there's nothing we can do. It's all about beating You-Know-Who for good, and that's why we're here. Don't feel guilty because someone offers you pie!"

His brain agreed with every word she said, it made perfect sense. His heart raged at her, she just didn't understand. He lay on the bed, thinking how the smell of butterscotch and cinnamon would probably make him sick right now.

* * *

Harry would sleep badly that night, but he wasn't the only one. Frisk was among the darkness and the howling wind again. They were alone, but not for long.

_Time is running out._

They knew without asking. "Asriel."

_He still dreams. If you don't wake him soon, he may never wake up._

"But he's been better ever since he befriended Harry-"

A palpable feeling enveloped Frisk. The rage was choking. But as quickly as it started, it stopped.

_I must apologise..._

"What for?"

_Those wizards. It is my anger in part you feel. Anger at the barrier, and those who set it. In spite of everything, I can't let go. I never could. In trying to warn you, I perhaps limit your options._

"Your anger? Who-"

_Listen. This is merely the calm before the storm. The shadow is biding its time, and then he'll be lost._

"But what can I do when I don't know what the problem is?"

_The wizards. Talk to them. You already know they're just as decent as they appear to be, but my emotions are blinding you. They can help awaken him. And possibly more._

"More? What else is there?"

_...you don't know._

"Know what?"

A moment's chill embraced them from the dark.

_You haven't realised. That will be hard._

Frisk decided to ignore this remark and focus on action. "What do I talk to them about?"

_Everything._

"Everything? Flowey?"

_Yes. And before Flowey. The whole story. If they are to help they must know._

"But Asriel would hate me if I bring that up with a stranger."

_You know better. He knows when you act out of love. His reluctance to speak of it is the shadow._

"But talking to people who just waltz into town? How do I justify that?"

_Just as you befriended the monsters. Your reservations are built on my own anger and mistrust. I cannot cast it aside, but you must do so._

"How do I do that?"

_Simple. Focus on helping Asriel. Stay determined. You must shut me out._

"Shut you out?"

_You have done it before._

Their earliest time in the Underground came back to them. An unbidden feeling, more of a thrill.

_Goodbye, for now. It's in your hands._

"Wait, are you-"

They jerked awake. A lot more of the conversation stuck with them this time. And so did the unease.


	8. Weasley's Monster Wheezes

_As Harry bore down on them, Lupin and Tonks turned into a side street. A fatal mistake. It was a dead end. Tonks' hair lost its bubblegum pink shade in shock. They twisted on the spot, but nothing happened. Harry heard a mad cackle by his side, full of triumph. His prey looked defiantly at him, then embraced each other in a final hug. There was a flash of green light-_

He jolted upright in bed, heart pounding. It took a few minutes for him to process his situation. He automatically felt his scar, but for once there was no pain at all. He wasn't certain, but for the first time in ages, he had awoken from a perfectly normal dream. If you could call a dream about murdering a man you had thrown out of your house the last time you met normal. Hermione was right, he needed to practice his Occlumency. It was bad enough when he dreamt of things that were actually happening. But the very dream robbed him of the emotional control he needed.

The source of the dream was no surprise, after Kreacher's visit the previous evening. Hermione's pleas had not shifted his feelings very much. He'd half a mind to call for Kreacher at once and head straight back to Britain. Surely moving around was more likely to throw something up than lying in bed. But he had promised Asgore. And no matter how cowardly it made him feel, he knew he'd feel worse for breaking that promise. Setting the precedent that wizards would put their own needs ahead of monsters felt repugnant. He clung to that feeling, it helped smother the desire for reckless action.

To conjure the illusion of focusing on Voldemort, he quietly walked over to the drawer so as not to wake his friends - more evidence it had been a normal dream, his visions usually involved a lot more noise - and extracted his snitch from the moleskin pouch. _I open at the close_. He still didn't understand it. He spent the next hour continuing to not understand it, not noticing the sunlight beginning to creep in. Trust Dumbledore to think up something like this. Maybe if he splashed his face with water or something it might clue him into something. Still holding the snitch, he carefully opened the door.

"Harry?"

Frisk's quiet voice came from the bathroom Harry had intended to use. Looked like they were having an early start as well. At the sight of him, they took a deep breath and looked right at him.

"Oh. Morning."

"Um, what's that?"

"What? Oh, this!" He held it up. "You know that game Ron and I play, Quidditch? This is the ball we told you about, the snitch. In fact this is the very first snitch I ever caught." He couldn't resist feeling a little pride.

"Oh. Can I look at it?"

Partly on the off chance Frisk could solve the mystery for him, Harry handed it over. Frisk turned it over, the writing having vanished again, leaving nothing but the snitch itself to observe.

"Funny, it's a bit heavier than you'd think."

"Really? I never thought about it. They usually fly around so weight's not a problem."

They twisted it in their hand. They knocked on it. They stared intently at it. Then they gave it back.

"Well that's kinda cool, I guess." They stared at the snitch in his hand for a moment. "Harry, can I-"

"Frisk?"

Asriel had woken up too. Harry saw that on top of his Yellow pyjamas with a red M on them, he was wearing his friendship locket.

"Oh, howdy Harry! I woke up and wasn't sure where Frisk was. Hey, what do you have there?"

The earlier scene with Frisk was repeated with Asriel, though his inspection of the snitch wasn't quite so meticulous. It didn't need to be, however.

"Yep, this is magical alright."

"How do you-? Oh right, monsters can sense magic."

"Sure can! Weird that it's not flying or anything, it feels pretty potent. But maybe that's by monster standards, I know it's hard for humans- oh, sorry, I didn't mean to be rude." He handed it back.

"You weren't, don't worry."

"Harry?"

"Howdy, Hermione."

"Oh, hello. What were you doing?"

"Just heading to the bathroom, when I bumped into these two. I was showing them my snitch."

"Your snitch? Are you sure you should?"

"Well why not?"

"Wuss goin' on?"

"Howdy, Ron!"

"Oh, hullo you lot. Getting really - _uaaaaaaah_ \- chatty out here."

"Well, we needed to get up soon anyway, Ron."

"Hey Asriel, did you ask him?"

"Ask who what?"

"Not yet."

"Fair enough. I'll leave it to you."

"Ron, what-"

"Howdy!"

The landing darkened a little as a hulking sixth figure emerged from the master bedroom.

"Looks like you're all eager to start the day. No bad thing. You might want to get dressed however. It's not October yet, but it's not as hot as it was."

The discussion panel broke up as Harry followed through on going to the bathroom, and the other four retreated to their rooms to get dressed.

Tired of toast for breakfast, Ron had asked for some money from Hermione a few days previously, and he had gone round and picked up a bunch of different breakfast foods. Eggs, bacon, sausages, things like that. The three of them had then taken turns cooking it. It was Harry's turn today, and as he was the most experienced with Muggle breakfasts, he had a lot to say. Frisk and Asriel were watching with interest.

"...and if you don't care for runny yolk, you have to flip the eggs over like this." He demonstrated. "That way you heat the yolk directly and it solidifies, see? Anyone want to practice sometime?"

"I do!" said Frisk. Harry was surprised, it was the most enthusiasm they had demonstrated yet.

Asgore had come to inspect the progress as well. "I must say, you're doing a splendid job, Mister Potter-"

"Come off it," called Ron, "you don't let us call you King. You don't even let us call you Mister Dreemurr."

"My apologies. Harry, then. I rely on toast because when I attempt to cook these things, I end up scorching them into charcoal."

"I bet you try to do what your, erm, what Toriel does, cook it directly with your magic?" asked Ron. Asgore nodded. "Well only she could give you pointers if you wanna do it that way. Maybe you should try cooking it the Muggle way?"

"Perhaps," he raised his giant hands, "but I am poorly suited to human utensils. I suppose I could get a custom order in."

Ten minutes later, they were all enjoying a hot breakfast. Asgore was consulting a list and a schedule, spectacles resting on his muzzle.

"I must say, the preparations for the Barrier Festival are proceeding splendidly. If all goes well we may open the funfair early." Asriel and Frisk looked excited. "Let me see, Main Street should be done today, Snowdin Road is halfway done, you tackled Torgore Avenue, and thanks again. I think... I don't need to change things up at all today. That's good, I'd like to tend to my garden, get it prepared for when Autumn begins to bite."

By the time everyone had found their jackets, Asgore had swapped his crown for an actual sun hat, donned a green apron and heavy duty pink gloves and armed himself with a trowel and shearers. As the five headed into town, Harry looked back as Asgore began tidying up the human-shaped bush in the center of his garden.

* * *

There were too many Muggles on Main Street to repeat the strategies they'd used the previous day, so they were back to mostly manual maneuvering and non-verbal spells. Today Asriel's curiosity had drifted to education, as Hermione bore the brunt of questions about what kind of spells they learned about and whether they ever cared for a dragon in Care of Magical Creatures, a question that got all three of them laughing. Frisk also threw a few questions her way, and certainly seemed to be in better spirits. Harry kept noticing them catching his eye, and he had the distinct impression Frisk was trying to gauge whether they wouldn't be overheard before saying something.

"Hey, it's nearly lunchtime," said Asriel, interrupting the seventh such attempt, "have you been to Grillby's yet?"

"No," said Ron, "that little bloke on fire, Hottie or something, mentioned it at the funfair."

"Well Dad has a tab. Let's go there!"

The outside of Grillby's almost looked like a saloon from a western. Asriel mentioned keeping at least something familiar from the old days. The inside was quite different, looking like an old fashioned American diner with white tiles and sleek metal tables. The counter at the front looked slightly less sleek, and a range of different monsters sat very comfortably there, clearly regulars. There were no other humans in here, but the monsters paid them no mind. Asriel and Frisk led them to a booth in the corner, and they were soon visited by much taller flaming man than Heaty, who Asriel introduced as Grillby. They placed an order and he stoically marched back to the counter to lay out plates of raw food on the table. No doubt he'd be cooking it like Toriel.

"Hey, Harry?"

"What is it, Asriel?"

"I asked Ron this a few days ago, but he wouldn't tell. I hope you don't mind, but I was wondering where you got your scar from? A lightning bolt is just a cool shape, is it a sign of your magic?"

Hermione almost looked indignant on Harry's behalf. Ron's expression was one that simply said "finally". Harry didn't know how to respond. It was a deeply personal question, and he appreciated Ron not spilling anything. And it was also in the same category as what had happened at the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. But there was also an urge to discuss that part of his life. He still felt like he was just abandoning the fight. Maybe laying it out would help.

"Well... it's a sign of magic. But it's not my magic. Frisk, you told him I'm an orphan?"

"Yeah they did, but what does... oh... oh..." He started to tear up. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It's alright. Unavoidable questions, right? Anyway. It's sort of hard to explain the whole story. I'm not sure your parents would approve."

"I've heard worse stories, I can take it!" It sounded like childish bravado, but there was a ring of truth to it. Frisk expressed similar sentiments without saying a word.

"Alright," Harry began, "first, we have to explain about You-Know-Who."

Beyond writing the name on a piece of paper, Harry kept to broad strokes and both of them paid rapt attention. They certainly took it better than Harry expected, but even though Asriel assured them he knew there humans who weren’t, their broad overview of Voldemort's crimes seemed to strain this understanding. As Harry described the night his parents died, Asriel teared up in earnest, and Frisk studied Harry intently as they put a hand on Asriel's shoulder. Their food had arrived in the middle of the story, but very little of it was touched.

"She... *sniff*... she wouldn't move. She must have been a great mom."

"Yeah, she was." Ron mirrored Frisk's gesture with a sympathetic hand on Harry's shoulder.

"And he came back? He came back and tried to kill you again and he's trying to hurt so many people-"

"Harry's outmanoeuvred him loads of times," said Ron with little concern, "we'll do it again if we need to."

Asriel ignored this. "So many families. So many families he tore apart and they weren't even a threat to him. Why would he do that? It's bad enough when families are torn apart because-" He froze, then fiddled with his ears as tears started forming. Harry felt stupid for offloading all this on a child, but Asriel recovered pretty quickly, and the conversation continued.

"And... what about your hand?"

"Oh," said Ron, "that's from an absolute mental nutter who tried to take over our school and torture us."

"Did they support Voldemort?" asked Frisk.

Ron in particular flinched so hard he knocked a bottle of ketchup over, while the others were looking around wildly while trying to extract their wands from pockets squeezed up against each other. After a minute or so however, nothing happened, so they relaxed again.

"Oh, sorry. That taboo thing you mentioned. I guess I don't trigger it since I'm not magical."

"Blimey, don't give us a heart attack, mate!"

Frisk actually laughed a little, inviting Asriel to join in. And to children, it must have looked funny to strike fear with a word.

"Well," they asked again, "did she support him?"

"I wish. That would have made sense. She's just an evil basketcase."

Asriel chuckled a little, though his fur was still quite wet from the earlier story.

"looks like you just listened to a top- _tear_ story."

"BROTHER, THAT WAS NOT ONLY TERRIBLE, IT WAS INSENSITIVE!"

They jerked their heads. Sans the skeleton was standing right there, with Papyrus right behind him.

"'sup, folks."

"GREETINGS, FRISK! GREETINGS, PRINCE ASRIEL! GREETINGS, HARRY! GREETINGS, RON! GREETINGS, HUMAN!" Hermione looked put out.

"care to budge up?"

They fidgeted and shunted their plates inward, and the two skeletons sat down, Sans next to Ron and Papyrus next to Asriel. Asriel seemed to cheer up a little at this. Almost as soon as everyone stopped moving, Grillby reappeared with two plates of food he laid before the new arrivals.

"Erm," said Ron, "How do you eat-"

"with a lot of ketchup." To prove his point, Sans took the ketchup bottle and allowed it to pour over the burger on his plate unchecked. "UNDYNE TOLD ME SHE INVITED YOU TO MOVIE NIGHT," said Papyrus, "THAT'S WONDERFUL! MY TINGLING SENSATION TELLS ME WE SHALL BE FRIENDS BY THE CREDITS!" "hate to _spell_ it out, bro, but i think that tingling sensation is because they're wizards." The ketchup was still being poured.

Papyrus' frozen face somehow looked wildly excited. "THEY ARE? THAT IS EVEN BETTER! THE GREAT PAPYRUS SHALL BEFRIEND WIZARDKIND AND BANISH ANY DANGER OF BEING RETURNED TO THE UNDERGROUND AGAINST OUR WILL!" For someone who was ignorant of the fact a moment before, Papyrus had expertly grasped the anxieties surrounding wizards' reappearance.

"...sure pap, let's go with that." Sans finally finished pouring, but only because the bottle was empty.

"So, just in here for lunch?" asked Harry, genuinely curious.

"nah." As brutal honesty went, this was pretty brutal. "tori's a good friend. i like to make sure cap here is okay."

"Hey, why not me?"

"'cuz you can take care of yourself, buddy."

Asriel's brow furrowed at the condescension. "You don't need to watch out for me Sans. The whole town does that already."

"that's true." He took a bite of his pile of ketchup with some burger inside, without demonstrating how he did it. "and i'd hate if that undermined our _blossoming_ relationship." For the first time, Asriel had a frown on his face.

"So, you two are brothers?" asked Ron.

"i know it's hard to tell, pal, we look so different." Asriel's frown vanished again as a grin reluctantly emerged.

"INDEED! I AM MUCH MORE HANDSOME!"

The seven of them finally began to eat in earnest. Despite how much time passed between Grillby serving them and the skeletons arriving, the food was still piping hot. A benefit of cooking with magical fire, it seemed.

"so what brings you round to our neck of the woods anyway?"

"Well they-"

"Sorry, I'd rather not say," said Harry bluntly, "we've discussed it with Asgore, and he's agreed to help us. I'd rather word doesn't get round."

"and what does he get out of it?"

"Well you got that opportunity to doze off on chairs for five days." Said Ron.

"oh yeah. that was pretty cool. sorry for _cast_ ing aspersions at you."

"SO... YOU ARE NOT HERE AS A THREAT TO OUR NEW WAY OF LIFE?"

"Uh, nope. Never even crossed our minds."

"NYEH HEH HEH! I HAVE SUCCEEDED BEFORE I EVEN BEGUN!"

"Yeah, good going Papyrus!" Papyrus' delight over his victory by default was infectious.

"i hope you guys don't mind if i'm a little more _stern-um_ in my assessment. i ain't ready to lie down and take it. it's not break time."

"What, you think we're about to seal everyone away?" asked Ron. "What have we done to indicate that?"

"nothin', _tibia_ frank," he stared directly at Ron,  "but you haven't done anything to indicate you won't."

"How are we supposed to do that? _Not_ seal you up?"

"would be a nice start. hey look, you're doing it already! i tip my _crown_ to you."

"Do you die or something if you don't make a joke every thirty seconds?"

"'or something', usually." Frisk smiled.

"Wow. Fred and George would love you."

"yeah, i bet it would be a real wheeze."

"Well they'd certainly..." Ron frowned. "Hang on, why'd you say 'wheeze'?"

Without missing a beat, Sans reached into his pocket and put something on the table. It was a Decoy Detonator.

"How the hell'd you get one of those?!"

A second pocket was delved into, recovering a creased magenta leaflet with "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes" on the front, with matching pictures of Ron's twin brothers. Harry recognised it.

"Fred and George gave me a box of their stuff for my birthday. There was an order form for owl delivery inside, and I remember folding it and putting it in my jacket. This jacket." He checked his pockets, and failed to produce the leaflet.

"yeah, i borrowed it. sorry, pal. can't resist a good joke shop. and your bros are pretty good. i got a nice selection of their wares. missing a trick with no whoopie cushions though."

"How'd you pay for this stuff anyway? I didn't think you had any wizard money."

He shrugged. "gold is gold. your bros understand that at least. easy enough to leave an order and some money at their door. and some suggestions."

"Their door? That's in London, how'd you-"

"i know a shortcut." This didn't answer anything. "surprised an owl actually brought it to my house. didn't _noc-or-turn-al_ my doors. just through the window. when wizards figure out what they wanna do with us, i'm gonna get more."

"One more question: How'd you get that leaflet?"

"same way I got this." He was suddenly holding Harry's moleskin pouch.

"What-?! Oi!"

"hmm, clever. doesn't wanna open up for me. i'd keep my socks in this."

"SANS, YOU ARE SETTING A TERRIBLE EXAMPLE FOR THE CHILDREN! CEASE YOUR POINTLESS THIEVERY!"

Ron snatched the leaflet and pouch and handed them to Harry. "You just been going through our stuff? What else did you nick?"

"nothin'."

"But... why'd you do it?"

Sans gazed directly at Ron. Suddenly his sockets seemed utterly devoid of life. 

"B e c a u s e I d o n ' t t r u s t y o u."

The voice made them all freeze. Asriel actually clung to Papyrus. It didn't last long, as the life flowed back.

"nothing personal, folks. the first humans capable of magic i came across would get the third degree. but if you think you're gonna force us down there again you-"

"BUT THEY AREN'T, SANS! I THOUGHT WE HAD SETTLED THIS. NOBODY INVITED TO MOVIE NIGHT WOULD DO SUCH A THING!"

Sans glanced at his brother. Then proceeded to give the other boothmates an intense appraisal. Harry hoped monsters couldn't use Legilimency.

"...okay, good point, papyrus."

"...'But'..." said Ron.

"but," he agreed, "i'm gonna defer to the best judge of character i know."

He looked at Frisk. As did everyone else. Harry admired how they handled the sudden spotlight so smoothly, looking back at them in kind. Their grey eyes lingered on him for the longest.

"...I don't think they're going to seal monsters again," they said finally, "I want to trust them."

"...not completely confident there, kid. but eh, close enough. you're nice kids doing your job. you get a provisional thumbs up from me. just make sure you never make me regret it. put her there."

A bony hand lingered before Ron, who took it with a slight look of relief.

_pbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbt_

Sans revealed the whoopie cushion concealed in his hand. Any threat in his posture had melted away. "heh. couldn't resist. it's one of my more _enchanting_ moves." Everyone laughed a little.

* * *

Snowdin Road was their target after lunch. The amiable end to a tense interview had lifted everyone's spirits, and Sans' influence meant there was a lot of wordplay. In what seemed like no time at all, they'd finished the road.

"Well, what now?"

"We're out of things to put up anyway," said Hermione, "let's see what's at the storage area."

As it turned out, not much. There were two large bundles of purple flags.

"Hey, I know," said Frisk, "these can line the forest path that leads to Mount Ebott. Make those coming down feel welcome."

"Cool!"

"I don't think we need all five of us to do it though. Two should be enough. How about me and Harry?"

"And what do we do, provide chat?"

An answer game in a beep from Frisk's phone. It was a text message.

_My child, I am drawing up timetables for school and could not get to the shop today. Could you please pick up eggs, flour, cinnamon, snails and milk before you go to watch your film?_

"Okay, you three can get this stuff for Mom, and we'll meet you at Papyrus' house." Harry gave Frisk a suspicious look nobody noticed.

"Alright, Frisk. We'll-"

" _Darlings!_ "

Mettaton glinted in the afternoon sun. It looked like he'd been polishing himself.

"And there's the star of the show! Not counting me of course," he said, advancing on Frisk.

"Me?"

"Oh come on, sweetheart, as if you weren't going on stage as the guest of honour. I'd expect nothing less from the human who led us to the surface! Now can we discuss costume? I was hoping to see you in the old blue and purple."

"Actually I was-"

" _Spleeeendid!_ This way."

With a final look at the other four, Frisk plodded off like they were heading to prison. Asriel suppressed a laugh until they were both out of earshot.

"Hey Harry, you want me to help instead?"

"Sure," said Ron, "and we can pick that stuff up on our own." The new plan agreed, they split up.

It was the first time since coming to Domus Nova that Harry had been among nature, and he didn't object to it. Asriel was in his element. He had started to plant them willy nilly, when Harry checked him and suggested he plan out the gaps between them so there were enough to make it to the mountain. Asriel agreed, pulled up the few he had planed, then conjured balls of rainbow light that spread down the path every few feet. Plan in place, they started planting in earnest.

"So, are you looking forward to the festival?" asked Harry.

"You bet! Are you?"

"Well that depends. We're still looking for the locket."

"Oh, I forgot." He seemed a little disappointed.

"If we haven't found it yet, I'm sure the festival will be fun, though. Sounds like you've all earned it."

"Thanks, Harry." They planted a few more flags each. "I was thinking about your scar."

"Oh?"

"You told me how it happened when your mom... when she protected you as a baby, right?"

Harry wasn't sure where this was going. "Yeah..."

"And then You-Know-Who disappeared! Does that mean you beat You-Know-Who?"

He resigned himself to a Creevey-esque reaction. "I suppose so."

Asriel's green eyes shone. "Oh wow, does that mean you're famous?!"

"...sort of." Given the current ministry, it was true enough.

His fluffy ears were twitching in excitement. "Not only am I friends with a wizard, he's a famous wizard!"

"I try not to think about it," said Harry, a dull flush in his cheeks, "it wasn't anything I did. And the cost was terribly high. And now he's back..." He couldn't help give voice to his concerns.

"Oh. You're right." The ears drooped even more than usual. "He's done a lot, hasn't he?"

"I'm trying not to make you sad here, Asriel."

"I can't help it. He's been so cruel to so many people, and he encourages others to be cruel too, and all that suffering he must have done, I'm thinking about it right now and I get- I'm..." His hands were clenched into tight fists.

"You get angry?"

The suggestion seemed to shock him. His fists relaxed, but only for a moment as one started scratching his ear. "No, I just get really sad. I try not to get angry."

"Why not?"

The scratching increased. "That's not who I am. I don't get angry. I'm shy and timid and I can be the biggest crybaby, but I don't get angry."

"Well I don't know about timid, but don't you think it's weird to refuse to get angry?"

"But if I get angry, I-" He started trembling.

Was connected to the terrible thing Frisk mentioned? He decided to drop the matter and calm him down, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Asriel, it's okay. Take a breath. Yeah, like that. Hold it a moment, then exhale."

Asriel repeated this a few times, and it did the trick. "Thanks, Harry."

"Sorry about that."

"It's okay, there are everyday conversations-"

"You're just copying Ron now."

"He copied my mom!"

They both laughed for a moment.

"It's been great since I came to the surface, you know. Living with Mom and Dad and Frisk, friends everywhere I turn. Fresh air and nature. The Sun, the Moon, the Stars. Much better than the Underground."

"Was it bad down there?"

"I wouldn't say bad. I mean, you wouldn't know what you’re missing until you came to the surface. For Mom and Dad it must have been awful."

"No wonder Frisk got angry at me. To do that again..."

"Yeah. I'm glad you're not gonna do that." Several more flags were planted. "What's Britain like?"

That was out of nowhere. "It's hard to explain, because it's not all the same. I grew up in a small town where most people were friendly. Not all of them though. London is packed and busy all the time. But when I go to school... in a way, Hogwarts is my home."

"...because you're an orphan?"

"Yeah. It's stupid, I suppose, but it doesn't bother me. I had no idea about magic until I went there. I made friends and discovered stuff I'm good at. There are mean people there too, but that's the case everywhere."

"I kinda want to go to Britain. We were learning about it in school."

Harry was suddenly serious. "I'm sorry, Asriel, but your parents are right. Britain's no place for a monster right now."

"Will he always be there?"

"Not if I- There are people trying to defeat him. But we don't know how long that will take."

"Well, you beat him once before. Why don't you help them now?"

"I told you, that was-"

" _Ohhhhh_ ," his eyes lit up again, "the locket! It's something to do with You-Know-Who, isn't it?!"

Out of nowhere, Harry was cornered. He couldn't admit it, but he was too surprised to make a denial sound believable, and hesitating was as good as admission. Maybe a vague enough story could diffuse it.

"When I was at school, our old headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, gave me private lessons. He was the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. And he gave me a job. A secret one. Please don't ask any more."

"Um, okay," said Asriel. He was looking at Harry in a whole new light. Harry supposed he hadn't done a good job of hiding it. "What happened to your Headmaster?"

"He... he was killed a few months ago. Worse than killed, he was betrayed."

As Harry reluctantly thought of that night, a curious thing happened. His scar flared up momentarily. He clenched his eyes shut and rubbed it furiously. This caused him to miss Asriel's brief expression of shocked realisation, before being wiped clean in favour of sorrowful concern.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Headache. I get them time to time."

A soft fuzzy hand touched his face, and something warm and comforting flowed from it. The pain seemed to lessen.

"What was that?"

"Healing magic! Mom's great at it, but she's been teaching me too."

"Blimey, I wish it were that easy for us." After a few deep breaths, the pain had gone.

"So, are you glad your job took you here? I am."

"...yes and no. I've enjoyed my time here, and everyone's been so friendly when you'd expect more people to act like Sans did."

"What's the no for?"

"Because... I'm here, in safety, while my friends back home are in danger. If V- If You-Know-Who's supporters catch them... I'd rather be fighting directly."

"Does it have to come down to fighting?"

He looked at him sadly. "Hermione told us what Doctor Alphys said about monster souls. Love, hope and compassion, right? You-Know-Who? He's the opposite. He has none of them. If he were a monster he'd be without a soul at all. I don't even know if that's possible, or even what it's like. How do you reason with someone without those? Who will lash out at anything you do that isn't submission, and kill you without a second thought? It's hard to understand someone like that."

Harry missed the intense ear scratching while he pondered his own words.

"Anyway, it's better you're clear of it. Kids shouldn't have to worry about stuff like that. But he won't stop, so I have to do what I can to protect my friends."

Asriel began to tear up. "Can I tell you something? I'm scared about what people like him might do to us if we don't have help."

"Looks like you do have help, with the humans in town and working with the Governor and everything."

A sniffle. "Yeah. It's good there's also people like you. And your friends. And Frisk! I used to think we wouldn't find anyone. It's great to be wrong. I just hope we have enough."

The trees were thinning out. They could both see the mountain loom large.

"Harry?"

"What is it?"

"Thanks for coming here. I've learned a lot from you."

"Dunno how you'll be able to use it, but you're welcome, I guess."

As they each planted a final flag, they gazed towards the path at the base of the mountain.

"Someday I'll keep us safe," said Asriel softly, and Harry saw his determination, "Mom and Dad did it, I'll do it too. It's the least I can do."

* * *

As they retraced their steps they were accosted by Papyrus, who was to escort them to his house so that movie night could begin. He escorted Asriel by offering him a piggyback ride, which with all the regal authority befitting his station, he cheered wildly. Harry was content to walk alongside them as they chatted about stuff. Him and the others, mostly.

Ron and Hermione were already there. After more than a week in Asgore's house, being in a house with normal proportions felt claustrophobic. Walking and stomping into the living room, they saw Undyne on the sofa next to Alphys, while Frisk was sitting on the floor and had been talking to Sans about Mettaton. Both turned to them when they heard the door open.

"'sup. glad ya didn't _wand_ er too far away. you watch many movies?"

"Not really," said Ron, genuinely looking forward to the novelty, "TV's hard to work around a lot of magic."

"Oh, yes," said Alphys, focusing on the three of them and not paying Asriel mind as he ran over to sit next to Frisk. "Th-that's what you told me earlier."

"IS EVERONE COMFORTABLE? FANTASTIC! I SHALL FETCH THE POPCORN."

Asriel got up from where he had just sat down. "I'll do it, Papyrus! You carried me all the way here, you can sit down."

"VERY WELL, PRINCE! SEE, SANS? THAT IS HOW YOU OFFER A COURTESY. THE KING AND QUEEN HAVE TAUGHT HIM WELL!"

"Oh, before we s-start the movie..." Alphys pulled out what Hermione recognised as her soul scanner. "Gentlemen, w-would you mind if I scanned you? I was c-curious how you compared to Hermione."

"It's really interesting, you should do it," said Hermione. They agreed. Ron went first. Apparently his soul was orange. Like Hermione his soul had a white outline.

"That means your strongest t-trait is bravery."

"Cool. Like a true Gryffindor. What's the white for?"

"We think that represents your ability to use m-magic. Let me show you what I mean."

She went over to Frisk and scanned their chest. Their soul came up as bright red, with no outline at all.

"I guess this confirms I'm a Muggle. Not for lack of trying, Mom really tried to teach me."

"Sorry. Human magic's something you’re born with, Frisk."

Alphys moved across the room again, and scanned Harry. She squeaked with surprise. Like Frisk, his soul was red, and like Ron and Hermione his soul had a white outline.

"R-red souls are quite rare from my s-studies! We're not sure about the m-meaning, but it usually means at a minimum y-you're comfortable with w-who you are."

"Hey Alph, ya done being a nerd?"

"N-never! But okay." She placed the scanner on the coffee table.

"Awesome! Hope you wizards are ready for this!" Shouted Undyne. "This movie is set in outer space, and when the crew of a mining ship get a signal-"

"Undyne, r-remember what Toriel said."

"Oh, yeah. Well my backup movie is about two cops as they investigate a series of gruesome-"

"Undyne..."

" _Urgh!_ Well what about-"

Everyone was so caught up in parsing Toriel's censorship, they didn't notice that Harry's scar gave a sharp prickle. He had a brief vision of a dark room, but it vanished as quickly as it began. He decided not to mention it. Nobody noticed the soul scanner as its reading changed briefly, showing a soul with a much murkier shade of red that looked unhealthy. Like the vision, it vanished quickly.

" **OKAY, FINE!** The pirate movie. Any objections?"

"THE ONE WITH SKELETONS? THAT SOUNDS DELIGHTFUL!"

"I'd have liked to see the space movie," said Frisk.

"maybe when you and your bro are older, frisk. i don't wanna have to tell your mom what was _bursting_ out of your imagination."

Asriel returned with two large bowls of popcorn, which he planted strategically at two tables between the assorted seats and the television, before returning to sit next to Frisk.

* * *

"I'm just saying, that was totally inaccurate," said Ron as the credits rolled.

"Wizards don't have c-curses that remove the flesh from your bones?"

"Well we do. But usually it kills you." Everyone laughed.

"And we have the opposite," added Harry, "turns out regrowing bones is really painful."

"WHY WOULD YOU DISCARD YOUR BONES? THEY'RE THE MOST FLATTERING PART OF A PERSON."

"He didn't," said Ron darkly, "trust us."

Asriel had fallen asleep. Apparently standard operating procedure was to carry him back to his mother or father's house, rather than allowing him to stay over. Perhaps those nightmares he had were why. Ron took charge of the cargo, and marveled at how light he was. The others waved goodbye as they set off for Toriel's house. There wasn't much talk, it had been a long day and their mouths were needed for yawning.

"Welcome home, children," said Toriel as they walked through the door. Asriel had woken up as the front door closed, so Ron gently put him down. "Oh my, you must have had a busy two days. What did you get up to?"

"'ung up decrshuns 'n' met undn 'n' -" A large yawn showed off his sharp teeth. Then he shook his head, ears flopping around as he did so, and then launched into a much more enthusiastic recounting. He was almost as hard to make out as when he was half asleep.

"My goodness! That was quite the adventure. And decorating the path to the mountain was a wonderful idea, Frisk, I'm proud of you. But now it is time for bed, both of you."

"Uh, Mom? Can Harry and his friends spend the night here?"

Everyone was taken aback by this sudden invitation, except Asriel. "Yeah! You promised to teach us how to cook breakfast!"

"Frisk, that is a big request so late at night. Surely all their clothes are at your father's house. Also I've only one bed in my guest room, if you recall what Bob Junior did to the other the last time he was here."

Once again, he couldn't say no. "It's alright, Toriel. I've got everything I need with me."

"We'll pass on the invitation," said Ron, "as I don't bring pyjamas with me everywhere I go."

"I see. Very well, I would be honoured to have you as a guest. Now children, please go upstairs and get dressed for bed." They raced upstairs. Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged see-you-laters and the door closed softly.

"Well, I suppose I should lay my stuff-"

"May I speak to you a moment?"

"Oh, sure."

He sat down in a chair opposite Toriel. Her posture put him at ease. There was no tension, only a sense of earnestness.

"Mister Potter. Harry, I mean. I wanted to thank you."

"For what?"

"Well formally it would be for all the assistance you and your friends have provided around town. And personally it would be for the information you gave surrounding our situation. But truthfully, it is for Asriel."

"What'd I do?"

"Well, to put it simply, Asriel has had... difficulties adapting to life on the surface."

"Could have fooled me."

"True, you are seeing him at his best. He is a kind and thoughtful boy, enthusiastic even, but the surface has been intimidating to him. He has had trouble talking to strangers unprompted, and sometimes appears quite withdrawn. He has even had nightmares. But since he met you, the change is significant. More willing to talk to strangers, to speak up in general, although his nightmares still plague him. I do not know what brought this about, but I am glad."

"Oh. Well, you're welcome. I just hope he stays that way when it's time for us to go."

"Yes. I believe the King will agree with me on this: You and your friends will always have a place to stay in Domus Nova if you need it. And if you desire, a slice of pie."

The sleepy stupid part of Harry wanted to chance his arm and ask if he could have treacle tart instead, but he caught himself offered gratitude instead. He then allowed his tiredness to lure him upstairs. As Toriel said the guest room was identical to Asgore's except the number of beds. He took off his jacket and-

"Harry?"

Frisk had entered the room unbidden. They were in red pyjamas.

"Where's Asriel?"

"Asleep. You really wore him out today. Thanks for that."

"Oh, you're welcome-"

"I need your help." Their fists were clenched.

"My help? What can I do?"

"Well your friends might help too. Tomorrow, I need to talk to you all. In private."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"That's just it, I don't know. Well I sort of know. It's Asriel."

"Asriel? What's the matter?"

"Well you know part of it. The dreams. But it's not just that. It's his being timid around people and feeling bad for certain things."

"And what's wrong with that?"

"Because he's not feeling bad for other things and he's timid around the wrong people! And I'm scared about what might happen if it continues. I can't bare it. Not again."

Harry was nonplussed. "Frisk, I don't understand what you mean."

Frisk forced their fists into open palms, and took a few breaths. "You're right. I need to tell you everything."

"Everything about what?"

"Everything. The whole story. I need to tell you about when I came to the Underground and when I first met the monsters. About resets. What sparked Dad's decision to break the barrier. And most of all..." they hesitated, but for just a moment, "I need to tell you about a Flower named Flowey."


	9. The House of Orbis

"He came back to life?! But that's impossible!"

"I don't know if it counts, it's more like his essence was put into something already alive."

"You mean his soul?"

"No, his essence. I’m not completely sure how it works, it might have been part of his soul before, but whatever it was it got left behind when he died. Monsters are weird like that.”

Getting time to recount the story was easier than expected, though the cryptic overview was so intriguing Harry didn't even notice his scar prickling that night. As he fulfilled his promise to teach them to cook breakfast next morning, Asriel seemed disinterested and listless. Feeling his forehead, Toriel judged him to be unusually hot and escorted him back to bed after a meagre attempt at feeding him some breakfast. Meanwhile Asgore escorted them to a carpenter's yard. They would assemble the stalls for the food and games that would be offered during the festival. Larger monsters would periodically pick them up and carry them out to the streets. Because they were in a private enclosure magic could be used freely, to Ron's delight. Asgore then excused himself and set off for Toriel's house to check on his son.

So Frisk launched into the story as they worked, starting with the first adopted child of the Dreemurrs, and their plan which tore the family apart. An unexpected result was that Ron's lingering misgivings about how the barrier had been broken were smoothed over by discovering the true motive. With his own family under threat from Voldemort, he'd have wanted to kill someone if Ginny was harmed. Harry silently agreed. And from that discussion came the subject of Flowey.

"And he couldn't feel anything? While trapped as a flower? That's horrible." Hermione was tearing up at the thought.

"Well he could feel stuff, like fear and anger and despair. He could maybe feel amused or something, but without a soul he couldn't love anyone or care for them. Not even Mom and Dad."

"And he could turn back time?" asked Ron. "Why not go back to before he died the first time and stop himself?"

"It's because of determination. It's something monsters can't normally handle in large doses. But flowers can. He couldn't go back to a time when he didn't have it."

The next part was the hardest to reveal, but the most necessary. How the loss of both empathy and consequences caused Asriel to lose himself, to experiment with and torture his fellow monsters for countless years. This was difficult for all three of them to wrap their heads around, having spent over a week in the presence of a gentle excitable boy who seemed incapable of hurting anyone.

"Well if he just 'reset', then everything's fine, isn't it?" Ron offered. "Nobody's hurt." Frisk shifted uncomfortably at the dismissal.

"To us, maybe, but surely he still remembers doing it," said Hermione. "If you killed your mum, and used a time turner to go back and stop yourself, would you forget you did it?" Ron thought for a moment, and grim understanding spread across his face.

"Exactly," said Frisk, "and I know how it feels, because when I came to the Underground, I took that power from him. I could reset."

"You what?" Scepticism was etched in Ron's face. "No, that can't be."

"Why not, Ron?"

"Come off it, Hermione! Look, I can sort of understand Asriel doing it, he's magical. But Frisk is a Muggle. How do they turn into a human time turner like that?"

"I don't know what it is about Mount Ebott, but it's about determination, not magic. Whoever has the most can do it."

"Well, there are some enchanted objects Muggles can use," pondered Hermione, "if magic is involved, maybe determination is how you access it. I mean, the whole thing is uncharted territory for wizards. The Department of Mysteries would love this place."

The three of them listened patiently as Frisk gave an overview of their adventures, and of Flowey's attempts to gain power for himself, and when he succeeded.

"...he used the power of the human souls to take everyone else's soul as well. He had enough power to become himself again. But whatever he planned, all that love and compassion awoke his own feelings, and he could think properly again! But he knew it was wrong to hold onto that power, so he broke the barrier with it and released everyone. But that meant he'd stop... he'd stop caring. He'd stop being himself."

"You mean he'd be Flowey again? Oh my..." Hermione assembled a rudimentary chair out of spare wood with a wave of her wand, and sat down. "That's awful. Stuck without feelings, totally alone. Could nobody do anything?"

"I tried," Frisk's fists were trembling, "but nothing worked. I asked him to come with me. I talked to everyone, but monsters had been trying to create a soul for ages, and nothing worked. I even tried to take him in a pot when he... changed. That just made him so angry he caused a cave-in to shut me out. So that's when I reset again. Maybe there was something I could do when he was actually himself that would work."

"And you found it, didn't you?" asked Ron. "How else is he running around without petals or an appetite for fertilizer?"

"No." It was a softly pained admission. "I never found it. Pouring through books and lab notes. Grabbing everything I could. Talking to everyone I met. Nothing helped. Only getting him another soul would work, and that was out of the question. Even if I did he'd never accept it. I must have reset dozens of times, but I finally let him go. I was keeping everyone else imprisoned, it wasn't fair to them. I had to make it up to them and help them build their new lives. He haunted me though. I couldn't stop dreaming."

"But then what's he doing here?"

"He turned up at Mom's house in January. He said he'd been trying to feel something positive, since he could remember it better, and one day it worked. He felt something for... for me, and that was enough to create a soul, and that restored him."

"There you go," said Ron with satisfaction, "monsters are weird like that, figures they could just grow a soul on their own."

"Does it?" asked Hermione. "That sounds odd."

"Oh come on, you're not going to doubt it because it wasn't in _1001 Uses for Souls_ , are you?"

"I'm just saying, if concentrating like that was enough, why didn't it happen earlier? And why would he suddenly start feeling without one?"

He shrugged. "Maybe flowers feel in totally different ways from monsters and he didn't cotton on until then?"

"Maybe, but that's another thing. He needed a lot of power to stop being a flower. Six human souls weren't enough. Why would a single monster soul be enough?"

It was Harry's turn to emerge from thought. "The rules might be different when it's your own soul? If monsters are more magic than matter, maybe matching essence and soul is a shortcut, but the first time Asriel brute forced the problem. Souls are mysterious, aren't they?"

"Well yes, they are. I have no idea if you're right Harry, but I can't say you're wrong either. Frisk, what's...?"

The discussion on the nature of souls had taken its toll on them. Their hair looked spontaneously dishevelled, and their eyes were darting around, as though trying not to arrive at a conclusion.

"Frisk," said Harry, "look at me."

After a moment, those grey eyes looked unwaveringly into Harry's. Perhaps the similar colour helped steady them, because they looked more determined now.

"The nightmares," he continued, "they're a problem. But they're not the only one." Frisk nodded. "Tell us, then."

They took a large gulp of air. "Every time he become himself, he always felt terrible for everything he did as Flowey. He always said not to think of the two of them like that, but I could tell. He at least thought they're the same person."

"Well, they are," agreed Hermione. "It's like he was mentally ill or depressed or something. When your mind is messed up like his was, and given all that power to abuse... He'd never have done it otherwise, but now he can think straight of course it should horrify him."

Frisk nodded. "That's what I thought. But since he came back he hardly ever talks about Flowey, and never about, well, when he killed anyone. It's like he's forgotten or he doesn't care. But he has to care. I saw that before the barrier. And yet something's bothering him, and he won't say what!"

"So what do you want us to do?" asked Ron. "I mean, we could put a cheering charm on him or something, but they don't last long."

It was clear whatever bridge Frisk hoped would materialise before them by confiding all this had let them down. "I... don't know. I just knew you might be able to help."

"Well, what made you think that?" They didn't answer.

"Maybe we should make it simple," suggested Ron, "march up to him and order him to spill it. Hermione, you didn't happen to nick any Veritaserum from the Order?"

"Ron! Do you really think we should blunder our way into such a situation? In front of his parents?!"

He thought about those claws. "Oh, yeah."

"Look," Frisk pinched the bridge of their nose, "I know you can help. I just haven't figured out how. As long as you're here... keep an eye on him, okay? I just can't bear..."

"Bear what?" Harry fought to keep a note of frustration out of his voice. "For all we know, maybe this is how he's dealing with Flowey. We've seen weirder behaviour."

Tears were welling up in their eyes. "I told you how hard I tried to help him. And any progress has been down to luck. I saw a child who went through hell voluntarily return to it, a hell I avoided. I could have ended up abusing resets, toyed with lives again and again. I did that! Having to deal with what he did all on his own... If something happens, if he has to go back..."

"Why would he? Surely his soul wouldn't just disappear?"

This was a mistake. A possibility stole across Frisk's face, and it was evident they didn't like it.

"What if that's-"

"Of course it isn't!" cried Hermione, though Harry recognised when she spoke about what she wanted to believe over what she knew to be true. "He's been with you for eight months, and there's been no hint of that, right? He's got a lot to work through, and it's hard when he won't let you help. Harry's done that to us a few times." Harry shrugged in admittance. "I don't know what we can do, Frisk, but... but we'll do it!"

Harry also knew Ron's look at Hermione deciding for them. Being badgered for SPEW badges sprang to mind. Frisk latched onto her words regardless.

"Thank you. Look, I need to talk to Papyrus, let him know Asriel's ill. He was gonna show us some puzzles." With fists that looked like they would never unclench, they left the yard.

"What'd you promise that for?!" snapped Ron. "Do we look like child counsellors?"

"Well, no, but Ron how could we leave it-"

"Easily: Horcruxes! What if they find the locket today? You'll be happy to sit here and talk them through their feelings while You-Know-Who runs around and-"

_CRACK._

Ron and Hermione looked around, half-expecting to see Kreacher. It was then they realised Harry had his wand out, and a large slab of wood had snapped in half.

"Harry, what are you playing at?!"

"Good question," he retorted, "what _am I playing at? Getting mixed up in another mystery when there's a _slightly__ more pressing one that needs solved."

"Harry, you're not thinking of leaving before they-"

"Oh no. I keep promises, me. I'm staying right here until they conclude the locket isn't here. And then I'm going to let the fact we've wasted time sitting on the sidelines while our friends do the fighting justify leaving a couple of kids to deal with something we haven't the foggiest how to help with anyway. So there, two unsolved mysteries for the price of one."

"Harry, isn't that a bit callous-"

"'It's all about beating You-Know-Who for good', remember? Hermione, I agree, and I'm damned sure Ron agrees too, Asriel's been through hell and I want to help. But we don't know how and we don't have time! We've only gone and offered hope we have no idea how to make good on. Are you looking forward to telling them?"

Her face flushed a bright pink, and he took a moment's satisfaction he knew he'd regret later. His perfectly normal dream about the not perfectly normal activity of murdering his teacher was feeding into his frustration.

"Why the hell is this so hard?" he burst out. "It's bad enough we've one really difficult job to do, but now we have this whole other problem dumped in our lap. Why didn't Dumbledore...?"

He stared at Hermione, waiting for an empty platitude to calm him. Instead...

"Yeah, you're right," said Ron, "this is a pain in the arse. But come on, mate. Maybe we can help before they finish looking? I'm not saying we stay, but just while we're here. We're good at mysteries, aren't we?"

Ron being the source of a fair compromise took the wind out of his sails. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. I vouched for us, it's my fault. But we might as well be there for them while we're here. Of course I'm not demanding we stay here and solve all their problems. I just thought… remorse."

"Sorry?"

"You know how you can mend the damage a Horcrux causes to your soul by feeling remorse? Maybe it works that way for other cases involving souls. Maybe if Asriel allowed himself to feel it, his soul would be more stable? He might even feel better, if monster souls are so heavily rooted in compassion."

"And you'll test this by trying to make him miserable?"

"Of course not, Harry, I'm just thinking! Oh, I'm sorry, it's just such a sad story, I got carried away."

"Yeah, you did."

"It's settled," said Ron, knowing the declaration would indeed settle it, "we'll make a go of helping them out."

"Hang on, you're the one who brought up Horcruxes in the first place. Now you want to stay?"

"Well," he shrugged, "we might as well while we're waiting. I owe his mum anyway. She plays a mean game of chess."

* * *

Despite the agreement, there wasn't much opportunity to make a go of it. Asriel remained ill for a few days, exhaustion and high fever and fitful sleeping punctuated with muttering. Harry, Ron and Hermione tried talking about possible explanations for his behaviour, but short of a dementor following him nothing occurred to them. And when he recovered, it was like how Frisk predicted. His natural nervous energy was clumsily complimented with periods of withdrawing, and the old habit of lone wanderings had returned. Even when he was at the same table as the wizards, his curiosity had dwindled, though he was in slightly better spirits. However Frisk looked at it, the calm before the storm was breaking down.

"Okay, what is it?" they asked as the two dressed for bed one night.

"What's what, Frisk?"

"You haven't seemed like yourself since you got sick. Are you having dreams again?"

"Oh, that," he smiled as he scratched his ear, "I'm just feeling tired. Being sick took a lot out of me. My dreams are pretty normal."

"Also, you don't even cheer up a lot when Harry comes round. I thought that might-"

Asriel shrugged. "Same thing, I guess. And it's not like they're an infinite source of entertainment. They've got a job to do, they won't be around forever." It was a fair point. But also rather an un-Asriel point to make.

"You're being strangely reasonable, Mister Dreemurr," said Frisk. The banter was fun at least. "I figured you'd cry when they finally left."

"Can't cry over everything," he said dismissively.

"Is that why you're wandering on your own? Blunting the pain?"

"Nah. I like to sit and admire the town. Everybody worked really hard to build it."

"Yeah, we did. I remember when Undyne was carrying fifteen planks of wood for her house and Papyrus surprised her-"

"But I didn't. I missed that." The look on his face had shifted. A subtle blend of sorrow and possibly fear. "I stayed behind. I thought there was no choice, but turns out I was wrong! And since I came back everyone's been so nice to me. I haven't had a chance to make it up to them."

"Well you did break the barrier, that was a good start."

"Yeah. But I want to protect everyone, so nobody can hurt them ever again."

"And you can do that when we grow up. I'll be there to help you." Something about talking about growing up made them feel uneasy, but they couldn't figure out why.

"What if something happens before that? I want to be ready now. I'll do whatever it takes, I'll go wherever I have to-"

"Between Mom and Dad and Undyne and Sans, I don't think we're going anywhere anytime soon. Especially with those troubles among wizards."

"Oh, right."

"Asriel, I'm sorry. I'm just worried about you. You've been through so much and it's hard to deal with."

"Well having friends makes it easier!" He grinned a little.

"And that's why I'm worried, when you spend all your time alone."

"Don't worry, I talk to someone if I starting thinking about... difficult things."

"Like who?"

"Whoever's around. Well except Lance and Ursk. They were making fun of you yesterday. I think Lance is jealous of you and that gets Ursk worked up."

"What did you do?"

"Told them to leave you alone. Lance told me to get lost and he'd be mean about whoever he wants and he'd shove all our friends if I did it again, and that really annoyed me."

"Shows what a big man he is, hasn't got the nerve to threaten the prince directly."

"But I felt better afterwards. I had a chance to stick up for you. It was pretty cool."

Frisk agreed. They were glad he was showing signs of doing that.

"I know you're worried, but I'm not gonna be like... how I was. I don't know if I care too much now or if the thought just scares me. Can I go to sleep now? Maybe I'll feel better in the morning."

Frisk relented. They weren't particularly satisfied, but not knowing which approach to take meant any further probing a waste of time.

* * *

Asriel still looked tired the next day, but he was more cheerful. Toriel, still concerned, insisted he accompany her to the shops while she pick up a few final textbooks for school. Now it was Frisk's turn to be alone, and they found themselves availing of their brother's pastime of wandering around town. They donated to the Arachniae Amphitheatre by buying a donut, and endured Gerson trying to get them to persuade those wizards to part with something more interesting than a cheap necklace.

Finally they drifted over to Asgore's house, on the off chance he might have some insight into Asriel. It was empty however. There was some leftover bacon from breakfast, so they gave the neglected toaster some attention by making sandwiches with it. Compared to the other breakfasts they'd experienced, they got the impression Hermione had made this batch. She seemed a smart person, but cooking wasn't her strong point. As if on cue, the door opened.

"Hello?"

"Frisk? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, hi. I was looking for Dad."

"Good luck, mate," said Ron, "That row-boat Mettaton roped him into attending a play or something."

"Oh, that opera about Dad. He's been trying to get him to watch it for months."

"Is something wrong?"

"You already know what's wrong." They exchanged knowing looks. "So how's the festival work coming on?"

"Doesn't seem much left to do," said Ron. "We just finished the last couple of stalls. I think he mentioned the stage for the concert, but the Diva would probably have our heads if we went off half-cocked."

"Yeah, Mettaton has exacting standards."

"So we figured we'd give ourselves an afternoon off," he continued. "Make sure our stuff's in order. Asgore mentioned that somewhere called Hotland is nearly searched, so that's most of the Underground. We should know in a few days one way or the other."

"Oh. And... what about what we talked about?"

"The furry little problem?" Harry looked uncomfortable. "Well..."

Frisk's phone rang. "Hang on. Hello?"

"Howdy Frisk, it's your father. The intermission just started, so I need to ask you something. I forgot there was reports of a pothole on the main road heading west out of town. I meant to check before Mettaton cornered me. Could you head out to it, maybe take some pictures so we know what's needed to repair it?"

"Sure. You know you haven't asked me to do a whole lot."

"Well you're the guest of honour, it didn't feel right-"

"I'm a part of the town too, don't go spoiling me."

"No promises," he chuckled, "I'll talk to you later."

They hung up. "Sorry, Dad wants me to check out a pothole and see what it would take to fix it."

"Well maybe we should go with you," said Hermione, "we could repair it with our magic. It would be cheaper."

"Hermione, I was looking forward to a nap!"

"Stay if you want, Ron. It's not like Mister Weasley and his Soul of Bravery can overcome the harrowing trial of a hole in the ground."

He looked annoyed, but smirked too. "Touche."

The pothole was pretty wide, but not deep. There was no sign of anyone, so it was simple for the three of the wave their wands and watch soil and asphalt and tarmac appear from nowhere, with a fresh application of paint to repair the road's markings. Frisk watched with an appreciation they hadn't allowed themselves to feel when they had all first met. As they headed back into town to report their good work however, their feelings returned to their troubled sibling.

"So, were you able to figure anything out about Asriel?"

Harry sighed. "No. He was ill, and he's definitely been more clammed up ever since. There's only so many ways we can ask what's up. You had any luck?"

"No. He says he's fine, but..."

"We've still got time," said Hermione, "we're sure to find something."

It was Frisk's turn to sigh. "He didn't ask to come back the way he did. Is it wrong to want to help him move on?"

"Of course not! I mean, he's your brother."

The words, though sincere, couldn't help but bounce off all four of them. Nobody knew what to do. Hermione rested a hand on Frisk's shoulder to try and relax them. Meanwhile, Ron offered a change of topic to distract everyone.

"Here. We didn't decorate this street, right?"

"No we didn't. Why would you bring that up now?"

"Well, whoever did it messed up. There's nothing over at that house."

Frisk was confused. He was pointing to a tall but narrow bush between two houses.

"You're right," said Harry, "seems a bit random when there are signs and stuff either side of it. Come to think of it, it looks really different. Who lives there anyway?"

"What are you talking about?" cried Frisk, annoyed at the abrupt change in topic. "Why are you staring at a bush?!"

The wizards looked at them, then at each other. Understanding that Frisk did not share spread across their faces.

"Blimey, you reckon that's..."

"It has to be." Hermione pulled out Papyrus' map of the town. "We're in the right spot for it. Where Mundungus mentioned."

"I'd almost forgotten about it. Should we take a look?"

"At what?!"

They turned around to Frisk again. Harry looked like he were struggling with something.

"It's... it's a Wizard thing. I'm not sure if we're allowed to-"

"Whatever it is, I'm going with you." They gazed right at Harry, full of determination. "It's a bit late to worry about keeping secrets, I'm in no mood for it."

To their great surprise, Harry didn't argue. "Alright. You might want to hold my hand for this, I'm not sure how this works with Muggles."

They did. Then the four of them marched towards the bush. Frisk felt a bit silly, like advancing menacingly on a bush would somehow produce all the answers surrounding Asriel. They reached the leafy threshold and-

"Woah."

The bush had flickered from being two feet wide to thirty, with a large gap in the middle, blocked by a rusty gate. Beyond the gate, they could see a house. Completely different in style to the monsters' houses, it looked like something out of a history book. It was dirty and untouched, but otherwise in good shape. The bush extended past its walls and probably around the back as well, completely encircling it. Whoever lived here wasn't a fan of prying neighbours. Frisk's brain was doing something funny, trying to reconcile this with what they had seen a moment ago. It was as if they'd known it was here all along, but their brain had refused to acknowledge it until forced to.

"How did-"

"It's a standard wizard trick for hiding magical residences," said Hermione. "I'm surprised the monsters didn't find it."

"Most of them don't recognise magic beyond their own, remember," said Harry. "Odds are they'd have to be paying attention to spot it."

The gate creaked loudly as they swung it aside. Like the house, it was in better shape than it appeared to be. The small path was flanked by a garden teeming with familiar golden flowers. Frisk couldn't help but suppress a shiver. They took the lead in walking to the oaken wooden door. It wouldn't budge.

" _Alohamora._ "

There was a click, and the door swung open. If it wasn't for the thick blanket of dust everywhere, it would have been inviting. Frisk was reminded of their parents' houses, only this had earned the description of antique the old fashioned way. There were no light switches, and the grimy windows left it dark and gloomy. They pulled out their phone, called up a torch from the extradimensional storage and switched it on.

" _Lumos._ "

Three more beams of light joined Frisk's. Slowly the four of them entered. Hermione raised her lit wand. " _Homenum revelio._ "

Nothing happened.

"We're alone, at least."

It was Ron's turn to try something. " _Accio locket._ "

Nothing continued to happen.

"We'll look room by room," said Harry, "like Grimmauld Place. Maybe we'll find-"

" **AHH!** "

Harry, Ron and Frisk hurried into the living room after Hermione. Fossilised embers rested in the fireplace, with an old fashioned tin bath propped up on the wall next to it. Clearly built before photographs, there was only a painting of the house in its prime. Frisk thought they saw something move in it. The cabinet behind the small dining table had some fancy plates and goblets, but nothing else. They at least looked pristine. A squashy armchair lay on its side in the middle of the room. The remaining chairs were wooden with peeling paint, surrounding the table. Hermione was pointing to one which was occupied.

"What the-"

A skeleton was slumped upon the table, dressed in purple robes the same colour as Asgore's cloak. The clothes were in good condition, save for the long thin sword sticking out of their back.

"Bloody hell, that must have hurt," said Ron.

"Oh," stammered Hermione, mastering herself, "th-there's a book beneath it."

Gingerly, Harry levitated the skeleton a few inches with his wand, allowing Frisk to extract the book and read the open page. It was a diary.

"' _Twenty-second of June, 1686. The Muggles won't see sense. I fear they shall come for me soon. I have a flesh stripping curse primed for if I am attacked. We have sealed this land from magical travel. Leave if you value your lives, the curse may linger._ '"

"Blimey," muttered Ron, "so this really was another Salem. No wonder we didn't bother with Ebott after they vanished."

The three wizards began speculating on this. Frisk didn't join in, even though it sounded interesting. Something about the skeleton drew their eye to it. There was... something was...

"Wait a minute," they said, "this isn't real!"

"You what?"

Frisk pulled a purple sleeve back. "See the arm? There's only one bone connected to the hand, there should be two. The skull's all one piece, but it should be different pieces joined together." They peeked down the neck of the robes. "And there's too many ribs. Whoever made this didn't know exactly what a skeleton looks like."

"How'd you know all that?"

"I hang out with skeletons, you learn these things." Carefully they examined a bony hand, and a finger broke away with a fine cloud of dust. "This is plaster! I recognise it from when we were building the town!"

"And another thing," added Hermione, recovered from her shock, "if this person really was killed by Muggles, how did they get in here? It's protected by spells. And why are there no other bodies? Frisk, I think you're right. Someone wanted whoever found this to draw an obvious conclusion and not pry any further!"

"And the stupid gits bought it? Why?"

"Well," said Harry, slightly amused, "a lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic." Hermione smiled. "And it's not like they'd just look at an obvious situation and conclude the obvious without looking into it properly like, say, whether someone really was dead, or someone really was attacked by dementors." Ron slowly nodded in thoughtful agreement, though his ears turned a little pink. "It does raise an interesting question though. Why?"

They spent the next hour trying to answer this. Thoroughly searching the living room, the kitchen and the pantry, but finding nothing. Upstairs there was a linen cupboard and two normal bedrooms before finding anything remotely of interest. The last room was a private library and study. The bookcase was full of ancient looking books and manuscripts, the writing on the spines so small Frisk couldn't make it out. Two shelves next to the door had an array of instruments that Frisk could not make sense of.

"Look, there's parchment on the desk," said Ron. Harry walked over and picked up the ancient piece of paper. Frisk caught a glimpse of the title, _Pneumomancy: Power of the Soul_. Harry read it aloud.

"' _Of all sources of magical power, none are as potent as the raw power of a human soul. Even the soul of a Muggle has great power if tapped into. However few are able to do so. The human form is woefully unsuited for wielding magical power, and those so blessed tap only the slightest portion, and rarely unaided. Only two methods of channelling a soul's full power are known to wizards, not including the wicked dark magic that is the Hor-_ '" He stopped himself.

"The what?" asked Frisk.

"Um, 's probably nothing," said Ron. Harry read on before Frisk could pry any further.

"' _The first is the death curse. 'Curse' is a misnomer, as it can be applied it to most spells. By channelling anger or hatred, the full power of their soul is briefly available to them, and poured into whatever spell they cast. This result is tremendously powerful, and only the effort of many more wizards could block or undo it, or another death curse cast for such a means. The costs are high. The human body is overwhelmed by the power, and the brain and heart are destroyed. Nobody has cast a death curse and lived to tell of it._

"' _The second method is the opposite. It cannot be practised, only performed under rare and exceptional circumstances. It is not born of anger or hatred, but of love and compassion. We have called it the charm of sacrifice. When a wizard can remain safe, but chooses to put themselves in harm's way for another, the feelings that motivate them, combined with the killing stroke, tap into the soul, and its power bestows a powerful mark upon those so protected. Those who threatened them can never again strike them as long... as they shall... live..._ '"

Harry stopped reading again. Frisk couldn't miss him absently rubbing his scar, deep in thought. Hermione put a hand on his shoulder.

"Her soul," she whispered, "she protected you with her very soul..."

Frisk felt indecent intruding on this moment, even as they thought of the story they heard in Grillby's. Harry shook his head, cleared his throat and resumed reading.

"' _These methods are available to all wizards, and in one form or another are short sighted and destructive. However other beings are more suited to availing of their natural power, and none moreso than-_ '" He stopped again. "That's it. The rest is blank."

"Really?" Ron took the parchment and fully unrolled it. "Here, you missed this bit at the bottom. Just says how great it would be if wizards could harness the soul properly. Dunno why they left a big gap." 

"Or maybe that gap was put in after the fact," Hermione looked over his shoulder to examine it, "why stop mid-sentence to add a conclusion? I think someone suppressed what this was saying. This looks like it was written centuries ago, even more than that diary downstairs." 

"Monsters." They looked over at Frisk. "' _None moreso than monsters_ ', I bet that's what it said. Mom and Dad told you about monsters and souls, right? This might be why-" 

"-they were sealed," Harry finished, "sounds like someone didn't want what monsters could do to spread." 

The desk had one other clue. A simple book with a handwritten title, _Septimius Orbis - Memoirs_. Ron picked it up and examined it. 

"There's missing pages," he said, shaking the book, "see the gaps? Skips from an argument with a Lichtenstein Warlock in 1470 to a Muggle asking for help with a broken leg in 1473. And there's another gap later in the 1480's. Blimey, you don't reckon…?" 

"I do reckon," said Hermione. "There has to be answers here, why else set up a fake body downstairs? Let's keep looking." 

While the others examined the silver instruments with recognition, Frisk looked at the bookcase. The books were mostly about history or spells, though one made reference to souls. There was also a delicate folder stuffed full of ancient letters, much older than the dates in the journal. But other than that Frisk couldn't make anything out, they were written in languages they were only vaguely aware of, and instead of a name most were signed with a weird triangular eye. And then in the middle, one title leapt out at them. _Nightmares and Dreems_. The spelling had to be deliberate. They tried to pull it out, but it got stuck. There was a clicking noise and a loud groan, and the bookcase moved on a hinge. Hermione was first to notice. 

"Of course," she said shrewdly, "they didn't use magic to hide whatever they were hiding, anyone looking into this would pick up on that. It wouldn't occur to the wizards to check for Muggle tricks of hiding- _Oh!_ " 

Her shock was muted compared to downstairs, even though the cause was identical. Inside a cavity behind the bookcase, another skeleton sat on a small chair, dressed in similar robes. Instinct told Frisk this was the real thing. Harry shone his wand inside the cavity and noticed a small pile of books and scrolls and letters and drawings, which he retrieved and spread out upon the writing desk. They had definitely hit the main prize. The books were all about monsters or souls, and most of the drawings were of monsters, including one which looked like Asgore with shorter horns and tidier hair. 

"These pages look like they're from the journal!" Ron pointed out. Hermione picked them up and began to read. 

"' _It was the autumn of 1472, when a deputation from the Hungarian Ministry of Magic came to Ebott, reporting a frightful tale. A team of aurors had pursued a notorious criminal across Europe, and had recently done battle with him. Though wounded, he escaped to a lonely road. And that is when a monster found him._ '" 

Frisk listened intently. A funny feeling told them they knew how this story would end. 

"' _The monster knew not who was before him, and tried to tend to his wounds. The aurors caught up with them, and as the monster tried to explain, the criminal died. Although the survivors-_ '" 

"Survivors?" 

"' _-reported what happened next as the monster's doing, my own inquiries suggests it was the dead man's last grasp at life, and his soul was absorbed. The monster underwent an astonishing transformation, and attacked the aurors. It was as if they now fought a hundred wizards, and two were slain in rapid succession. But before he could finish them, he froze. The lead auror cast a killing curse, and the monster collapsed into dust._ '" 

"Blimey. So somebody did go mental and nick a soul." 

"Hang on, Ron. ' _I was fortunate enough to interview the lead auror, who added two crucial details. First, the monster spoke openly of the dead man's crimes, which he could not have known. Second, when he froze, the monster said something. 'I can't stop him. Do it. I'm sorry.' These lead me to the conclusion that it was the soul of the criminal who controlled that power, and used it most wickedly._ '" 

The story of Asriel's original death, including the details he himself provided, flooded Frisk's mind. It was uncanny how similar it was. 

"' _The deputation forbade us from contacting the monsters regarding this, as of all the magical communities of Europe we were closest to them. To my knowledge monsters never learned of the incident, or the fate of the criminal's final victim. It would not be the end. I feared their alarm at the power, and our confirmation that a Muggle soul would have a similar effect, caused them to miss what a dark wizard may do if they discovered this path to power. Instead they spoke exclusively of the monsters vanquishing us, which proved they knew nothing of what comprises a monster. A monster set on conquest would destroy themselves by abandoning their compassion. All talk to assuage the deputation failed, and I feared this was not the end of it. I would be proven correct._ '" 

Frisk's heart hammered at the ominous conclusion. Hermione rifled through the pages for a moment, then resumed reciting it. 

"' _...of 1484. This second deputation was much more comprehensive. Hungary, Austria and Switzerland had agreed the monsters were dangerous, and must be banished. They even Imperiused a local King to provide Muggle troops in their planned attack. We were to be conscripted as well. Refusal would have our research into the soul branded as dark magic, and the community would be rounded up and imprisoned. Cornered, we cravenly agreed to devise the Great Seal. After the despicable slaughter, the survivors were thrown inside the Mountain of Ebott. Our seven most venerable wizards were compelled to use the death curse to amplify a Shield Charm, and all seven perished in the casting. It would take another such sacrifice of seven wizards to break the Seal, but the other Ministries have kept close watch on us ever since. In the meantime they purge records and memories of monsters, and spread rumours among Muggles to keep them away from the Mountain. As long as this is the case, monsters are sealed forever, lest a human crosses their path they they would have to slay to take their soul. That we participated in this act, even under duress, is the greatest shame we shall endure for eternity._ '" 

The four of them stood in silence. Conflicting emotions wrestled within Frisk, and by looking around saw they weren't alone. Hermione emerged from her revery first, contempt etched into her face. 

"Typical," she spat, "anything inconvenient to wizards has to be controlled or dispatched with. And if you're threatened if you don't go along. No wonder house elves have it so bad." 

"House elves?" 

"Long story, mate," said Ron. "Hey, this envelope has the Delta Rune on it." 

Harry reached out to take it, but Frisk got there first. The envelope was ripped to shreds, but its contents were handled with more care, a letter written over several pages. It was Frisk's turn to read. 

"' _I, Aurelian Orbis, Final Ebotian Minister for Magic, do hereby leave this chronicle of our attempt to atone for our greatest shame. If you are reading this, you have the openness of mind needed to find it in the first place, and perhaps can use this information wisely._

"' _If you have read what my ancestor Septimius wrote, then you know of the great crime we were complicit in, the banishing of an entire race who posed no real threat. The shame of that crime burns just as strong two centuries on. Though it burns only in Ebott. The attempt to suppress knowledge of monsters was too successful. The Austrian Minister for Magic visited once, and even in private conversation never broached the subject with me. I am convinced she did not know at all._

"' _Upon this realisation, a debate erupted about whether to break the Great Seal and free the monsters, and work to integrate them into magical society. However, times have changed. Wizarding Ebott was never large, and our community has grown ever smaller. With the sacrifice of seven breaking the seal requires, we would be short handed should other Ministries try to re-imprison them. Worse than that, animosity between Wizard and Muggle has grown over this century, and even now there is talk of wizards secluding themselves entirely. We feared releasing a whole new magical community would result in Muggle attacks, quite separate from the fear of souls. We decided the time wasn't right._

"' _But alas, the Wizards of Ebott have been felled by the greatest power of all: the whims of fate. Plague has swept west from Vienna, and despite not being magical at all is beyond the means of healers to remedy. Only an Immunitas Charm can protect one if not afflicted, and it struck so fast most were felled before they realised. As I write, only seven of us remain, and four are ill regardless._ '" 

"Seven," muttered Harry, "does that mean…?" 

"' _With the end of Wizarding Ebott approaching one way or another, there was a question of whether we should break the seal. But the time is still not right, and the monsters would be truly without allies. An alternative was proposed, based in the final discovery of pneumonancy._ '" 

"What, magic to do with souls?" asked Ron. 

"I think so. ' _Through intense magical study, we have discovered how to invoke the charm of sacrifice deliberately, using techniques similar to the death curse, but based in love instead of hate. In terms of protective enchantments, this should be more powerful than what the death curse would offer. The price remains the same however. The power is too much for the human body to cope with._

"' _If all goes to plan, you shall have travelled to Ebott as a Muggle would. This is deliberate. Apparition, floo powder, portkey, none shall work. This shall prevent wizards from ambushing monsters. In addition, this spell shall stimulate those who dwell in the land of Ebott to be more open minded. Should Muggles encounter monsters first, it is less likely they shall attack out of blind fear. Finally, and most crucially, any soul weaker than a human's shall be strengthed. Monsters shall be hardier if ever harmed physically, but the true intent is to deny a path of power to a dark wizard. If a monster takes a human soul, if they are determined enough and stay true to love, hope and compassion, the monster shall be more able to resist the human-_ '" Frisk ground to a halt. 

"Are you okay?" 

"That night. When they went to the surface. This spell must have helped Asriel resist. If he hadn't, there would have been a massacre and the war would have started again and…" 

"Oh my," whispered Hermione, and once again rested her hand on their shoulder. Frisk was caught up in what they knew of that night, so didn't resist when Ron took the letter to finish the story. 

"' _Our plans are made. Our few remaining children, including my daughter Domitia, have been sent to distant relations with modified memories. I have performed a Fidelius Charm to further conceal all living knowledge of monsters that may linger abroad. Unless you meet a monster, this letter shall be the last record of their existence. I have also devised a grisly scene in my house, to frighten those who are not ready from prying. We shall apparate to the mountain and cast the charm there. We are content with this decision, and depart this life in the hopes of peace reigning. To those reading, do not try to banish the monsters again. It is a grave injustice they have suffered for the fear and arrogance of wizards._ '" 

The letter was finished. Frisk let its contents wash over them. This man, those seven people, they would have accepted all their rage, all that anger that wasn't even theirs, without complaint. And they were like Asgore, forced into something they really didn't want to do. They were put in that situation, and then they put him in that situation. It was a vicious cycle that played out over the centuries. As they dwelled on this, they didn't notice Harry rifling through the papers. 

"Hey, there's another letter." 

Everyone spun their heads towards him. Looking at the similar parchment in his hand, Frisk noticed the handwriting was much shakier. 

"' _I survived the casting. I did not expect to. But it is a delay, not a reprieve. I can feel it, my heart will fail soon. The charm worked at least, I had to make my way down the mountain on foot. My friends' bodies are transfigured, simple rocks on the summit. My time is at an end. To Domitia, know that I shall always love you. To my friend Commodus Black of London, I apologise for vanishing like this. And finally, should he read these words, I write to the King of Monsters._ '" 

"The King-?!" 

"' _Asgore, my ancestor Septimius wrote a lot about you, from when you corresponded and met on occasion. I know you had no children when you were banished, and otherwise shall live a long life. Indeed, you may yet live when the Great Seal is finally broken. On behalf of every Orbis since Septimius, I express the greatest sorrow for what we put you through, and for what you may have done to free your people, as it is anathema to every description of you I have read. I accept the blame without regret. Do not torture yourself any more than you have. I bequeath his journal to you and your family, if it helps bring you solace. Had the circumstances been different, we might have been friends. I am sorry we could not share a cup of tea. I hope your people are enjoying their new lives. I go to the grave content I have done all I can to facilitate it._

"' _Written by Aurelian Orbis, Minister for Magic of Ebott, 22nd of June, 1686._ '" It was signed with his name, and a sketch of the Delta Rune. 

"Bloody hell," said Ron finally, "talk about your fanatics." Hermione didn't bother to shoot him a look. 

"I was wrong," said Frisk, tears forming in their eyes. "I thought they didn't care, but they did. They did so much. And they tried so hard to fix the situation, and when they couldn't… I think I understand them now." 

"Well there were still pratts involved," shrugged Ron, "just a bit further afield than we thought. You could probably track down who did what and go to those Ministries and shout at them if you felt like it." Frisk chuckled. 

None of them felt right leaving Aurelian's body sitting in that chair for all eternity, so when Frisk suggested burying him, the others agreed. While Hermione scanned and sorted his treasure trove of knowledge to present to Asgore, Harry and Ron dug a hole in the garden with their wands. Then all three wizards carefully hovered the body down the stairs and out the front door, then lowered it into the grave. They replaced the soil they had used, re-planted the flowers on top, then found a stone that would work for a headstone. Hermione carefully carved his name and date of death, and then had a go at etching the Delta Rune onto it. It looked impressive. 

They all stood at the grave in silence for a while. Nobody knew what to say that wouldn't just be regurgitating Aurelian's letter back at him. Finally Frisk stepped forward, took out a stick from their phone, and laid it before the headstone. 

"Thank you," they choked. It wasn't original, but it was sincere, so that was what mattered. "And I'm sorry." 


	10. The Prince's Tail

Harry saw the marvel on Frisk's face, as from their perspective the hedge around the Orbis House must have shrunk and swallowed the house whole once they cleared the threshold and set off for Asgore's house. The afternoon's discoveries gave them all food for thought, wondering how others, wizard and monster, would react. Their concerns about Horcruxes and wayward brothers weren't able to get a word in edgewise. This lasted about five or six houses.

"Harry-?!"

His scar had split open without warning. He could only feel his hands desperately trying to flatten it out. Actually that wasn't true, there was something else. Savage pleasure. He tried to force himself away from it, and with great effort, found himself lying on the street.

"Harry, was it-"

"Dunno, couldn't see anything." His scar was still burning angrily.

"What was that?!" Frisk was eyeing them intently.

"Wizard thing. Hard to explain," offered Ron.

"Could, could we find your mum? Reckon she'd be better than a painkiller," said Harry thickly, recalling Asriel's ministerings.

"Maybe she's still in town. Can you walk?"

"Yeah, sure..."

He felt cold and sweaty, but managed to keep a steady pace on his feet. They managed another three houses before Frisk's phone rang.

"Hello?"

"My child, are you near Waterfall Road?" Toriel's voice was urgent.

"Yeah, what's wrong?"

"Please come at once! There has been an accident, I could not reach anyone else!"

The four of them wasted no time. His scar was still throbbing angrily by the time they'd reached the center of town, but Harry could at least pass for normal, save his slightly pale face. They moved quickly past a row of shops, until a sliver of purple announced Toriel's location in a side alley.

"Mom, what's-"

Frisk's question was silenced by Asriel, who had been sitting on a step twisting his ears wildly and hyperventilating, but launched into Frisk's arms and broke down sobbing uncontrollably. As Frisk returned the hug earnestly, they looked over at their mother. She was knelt over two figures. The larger brown one was upright and clutching a knee, while the smaller less hairy one was unconscious. It was Lance and Ursk.

"What happened?!"

"I, I am not sure. After buying some textbooks, I decided to get some new clothes for school. I allowed Asriel to wander up the street while I was measured, and ten minutes later he ran back into the shop screaming for me. These children appear to have been climbing a fire escape when part of it broke." She indicated a bent ladder lying haphazardly on the ground. "I have patched up Ursk as best I can, but my magic isn't as effective on some human wounds. These cuts are deep. I am doing all I can to ensure he is stable until an ambulance arrives."

Hermione had pulled out her beaded bag the moment she surveyed the scene. Upon hearing Toriel's difficulties she also took out her wand.

" _Accio Dittany!_ "

A brown bottle zoomed from the bag into her hand. She knelt down beside Toriel and poured a few drops on the wounds. Green smoke billowed from it, and when it had cleared, the bleeding had stopped and the cuts weren't as deep. She poured more on them, and after the smoke cleared again they were minor grazes.

"His arm looks broken. Hold it straight. _Ferula!_ " A splint appeared from nowhere and was tied to Lance's arm by bandages that wrapped around both. " _Tergeo._ " The blood on Lance's clothes and Toriel's hands vanished. Ursk looked on, amazed and grateful.

Toriel was relieved. "Thank you. Thank you so much! I was worried that he-" A siren was growing louder. "Ah, I believe the ambulance shall arrive shortly. Frisk, take your brother to your father's house. I shall accompany them to the hospital until their parents arrive."

"Do you need any more help?"

"No, it is down to the doctors. But please keep an eye on my children."

Setting off was more difficult than expected, as Asriel hadn't wanted to let go of Frisk. Eventually he was coaxed into Harry's arms, as Harry was tall enough to clutch him and walk at the same time. Sure enough, Asgore hadn't made it home yet. To give Asriel something to focus on and maybe distract him from what he must be dwelling on, Harry decided a very very late breakfast was in order, and set about talking both children through cooking, making sure they took turns. It seemed to work in that Asriel stopped sobbing, but he was still beyond speech at the moment. Being unexpectedly thrust back into the role of instructor was helping Harry too, distracting him from the continued prickling of his scar. There was a sizeable supply of slightly burnt bacon and eggs when the front door opened. Asriel dropped the mercifully empty pan and dashed into the hallway, and they could hear him sobbing softly again. His son clutching his neck tightly, Asgore entered the room and sat down as they explained what had happened.

"You acted quickly, and your mother is ensuring they will recover. It was a dreadful thing to encounter, son, but I am proud of you."

Asriel's first coherent words in a long time came through. "M' fault..."

"Sorry?"

"It's-it's my fault! I argued with them the other day and they threatened my friends and I got really angry and for a moment I wished-" His voice gave out again.

"Thoughts don't become real for no reason, Asriel. It was a coincidence."

Asriel remained unconvinced. He lightly trembled and didn't touch anything he had helped cook. Frisk had talked to him about how Harry and the others had repaired the pothole for them, but an unspoken understanding had been reached between the four of them that it was the wrong time to bring up the testimony of Aurelian Orbis. Asriel had firmly re-entrenched himself as Frisk's number one concern anyway.

Toriel came by a couple of hours later. Ursk would be fine and released the next day, but Lance had a serious concussion in addition to his injuries. There were monsters who had taken the time to specialise in treating human wounds, so hopefully his arm could be mended in a few days. It would have been life-threatening had Hermione not stepped in. Toriel had explained to Ursk not to talk about what he had seen Hermione do. Asriel recounted his angry wish to her, and she skewed the same line that Asgore had, to similar limited effect. It was a supremely muted end to the day.

* * *

_The door of the rickety cottage blew apart, and he stepped through it. Atop the fireplace in the room full of mismatched furniture, a clock had nine hands, all pointing at 'Mortal Peril'. Two figures with red hair were forced to their knees by three hooded wizards roughly grasping them. Save them for last, perhaps. He swept up the stairs, into a bedroom on the first floor. A flowery scent caught his attention as he appraised the young girl looking plaintively at him. A flash of green light-_

Harry actually fell out of bed this time. This made it particularly difficult to disentangle what was real and what was not. The pounding of his heart was contrasted by the silence of his scar.

"She's at Hogwarts she's at Hogwarts she's at Hogwarts she wasn't there it was just a dream she's at Hogwarts..."

He repeated this mantra for several minutes, until his heart finally felt like it wouldn't explode. Sleep was totally ruined for him however. The only thing he could think to do was examine his moleskin pouch. He took out the snitch and kissed it.

"'I open at the close.' Wish you'd open up and tell me what to do. About either problem really, I'm not picky."

He gave up before long and, still haunted by his dream, took out a blank piece of parchment and tapped it with his wand.

" _I solemnly swear that I am up to no good._ "

The parchment filled out with lines and dots and names, forming a map of a great castle. Most of the dots were stationary, but a few were moving. Looking in one of the towers, the name 'Ginny Weasley' truly set his mind at ease.

" _Mischief managed._ "

The parchment was wiped clean, and he put it away again. He now opted to extract a small shard of mirror, and stare at it. No surprising blue eye this time, just his own green. He'd have thought it was a bit late for that, but given who he was thinking of the time of day didn't necessarily matter. He sat on his bed as the scar finally made itself known. He shrugged it off disinterestedly, angry with himself that he had even more people to worry about.

* * *

Asriel was withdrawn the next morning, to nobody's surprise. He gave a perfunctory announcement that he realised he hadn't caused Lance and Ursk to get hurt, much to his father's relief. Toriel had called the hospital: Ursk had already gone home, while Lance was still under observation as the doctors and monsters worked on healing him, but he was on course to be discharged in two days time. After learning this, Asgore made a snap decision. Since the funfair had been in a state of readiness for over a week, perhaps the rides should be tested properly, and he had a good idea of who would be good candidates. Nobody missed the intensely personal reason he was doing this, but it had the desired effect, as Asriel's spirits definitely picked up after this.

For Harry, Ron, and Hermione he had one final request, perhaps the most onerous. Mettaton was pushing to have the stage built now so that he could run his demanding rehearsal schedule. If they could help build it, and perhaps help out at the rehearsals, he'd appreciate it. Frisk smiled behind their plate, an image of Ron selling Glamburgers in their head. As for them and Asriel, before they prepared for their duty as ride testers, their mother wanted them to help her sort through old clothes for donation to charity shops, so after breakfast they followed her home. Toriel had already sorted her own clothes. There wasn't much for her to give, as her size was uncommon combination for her tastes, so she more often had her old garments donated to be recycled than merely worn. Today however she did have a set of robes and a couple of outfits ready to go to the shop on this occasion, so it was up to their bedroom to sort through their clothes. The very first thing was awkward. The green and yellow sweater Asriel was wearing when he had returned. For Mother and Son especially, this brought up powerful and conflicting emotions. Before Asriel could voice an opinion, Toriel announced her decision to keep it.

"I do not wish to forget them, my child. After all, I never forgot you." She smiled affectionately at them. Neither child could object to this. After getting a few more sweaters and jackets for donation, she moved onto their shared pile of t-shirts. She took out a blue t-shirt with a yellow star on it and had automatically put it on the donate pile.

"Mom, can we keep that?" Asked Asriel. "Frisk gave me that t-shirt the day I came back."

Frisk recalled that evening fondly. It had actually been one of the first pieces of clothing their parents had bought them, from a shop in the first human town they made contact with. While they and Asriel had ended up sharing a lot of clothes, it felt fitting to give it to him, like a welcome home present from his parents.

"That was nearly nine months ago, Asriel. Surely it does not fit you now."

"Yeah, probably. But it brings back happy memories. I don't wanna forget."

She smiled down at him. "Very well. But choose your sentiments wisely, I shall not have you holding onto a t-shirt just because you received good marks in a piece of homework while wearing it." The three of them chuckled lightly. "But to be serious, it is wasteful to cling onto things you can no longer use because you have outgrown them."

As she said this, she gave him an appraising look. Frisk saw it briefly intensify, and then confusion spread across her face for a moment. She then shook her head, allowing her ears a rare flop-a-bout.

"Sorry, I thought I saw something odd. I was mistaken. My mind is wandering, surely."

Frisk looked over at Asriel too. For a moment a voice was agreeing with Toriel, but their brain wasn't able to connect why. The unease that the dreams of the void gave them lingered as they continued sorting clothes.

* * *

"I'm just saying, darlings, surely it would add a little more pizazz to the big show!"

Building the stage had been pretty straight forward, and they had finished the previous afternoon. Metatton wasted no time colonising it and getting all sorts of equipment set up. Microphones, DJ tables, speakers, lights currently illuminating his face, cameras currently aiming at his face, a large screen on the building behind the park currently showing his face. So far they had been moving boxes around pretty mundanely, as Hermione didn't want to risk short circuiting anything with a hover charm. But right now they were having a somewhat heated discussion.

"And we're just saying, mate," retorted Ron,. "Wiz-ard-ing Sec-re-cy. If it were an all-monster thing we might get away with it, but there'll be loads of Muggles. You wanna frighten the wizards into taking action?"

"Oh, Freckles, I'm not asking you to get up on stage with me if you have stage fright. You think we're using boring old pyrotechnics and fireworks? I've got a dozen monsters practicing synchronised bulletstorms. The whole point is to use magic! We're celebrating what we bring to the table. Nobody would know it was you."

"I can appreciate you want a bit of variety," said Hermione, trying the diplomatic approach, "but if it's about celebrating what monsters can do, wouldn't we be stealing your thunder?"

"Hmm. You make a good point, sweetie. But I've been striving not to be a spotlight hog. If others can contribute to the show, I'm an idiot to hold them back. We all look better that way!"

"Well what do you even want us to do? Wizards usually have their own fireworks for big fancy displays. Wands are good at coloured sparks, but we don't know any spells that just make a pretty light show."

"Oh, but there's one. I saw it once, before the war. Makes a pretty silver animal? What was it, the Patronage spell?"

"The Patronus Charm?" Harry responded automatically.

Metallic fingers snapped in delight. "That's it, Darling! ' _Expecting Partition_ '! If that wasn't the most glamorous thing. Care to give a demonstration?"

"Now? In the middle of the park? Are you mental?!"

He sighed coldly. "Fine, Freckles." He clapped his hands twice into the microphone. "Take ten, everyone."

Everyone not on stage, monster and human alike, dispersed in the direction of the nearby cafes, leaving them quite alone in the park. Harry was reluctantly impressed.

"Any further objections?"

Defeated, Harry decided to oblige him and pull out his wand. He thought of his birthday present from Ginny.

" _Expecto-_ "

"Hey!"

The four of them turned. Undyne was jogging towards them.

"You three! Asgore wants to see you!"

"Why, what's going on?"

"Something about something somebody found in the Underground that might interest you."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. He had cleared the stage and was running towards Asgore's house without thinking. Ron and Hermione were following close behind.

"Don't think this gets you off the hook!"

Ten minutes later, the three of them took a moment to collect their breath, before walking through Asgore's door with something approaching dignity. Asgore was seated in a chair by the fireplace, speaking to a squat, off-white monster barely two feet tall, but four feet wide, supported on stubby legs, and a face with curiously protruding lips. His tentacle-like arms held a cloth bag.

"You made good time," said Asgore pleasantly, "Jerry here believes he has found what you were looking for."

"Yeah. I mean, I wasn't part of your search squad or whatever, but when there's a bunch of gold on the line, I'm gonna find it."

He unceremoniously tipped the contents of his bag onto the coffee table. For a moment Harry's heart leapt at the golden colour, but as his brain properly registered what it was he was seeing, it plummeted again. It was a heart shaped locket, rather than Slytherin's oval, and the chain was much shorter and less complex. Also examining it, it looked really dirty and tarnished, like it had not been cleaned in years. In his admittedly limited experience, Horcruxes were good at keeping themselves presentable.

"Erm, this isn't it. Sorry. Thanks for the effort though."

Asgore appeared to have reached the same conclusion independently. "Jerry, did you happen to read the notices describing the locket?"

"Well, I skimmed it. A locket's a locket, right? What's the big deal?"

As Harry's whine of concern was upgraded to panic, having their one solid lead evaporate, Hermione instead looked intensely curious, picking up the locket to examine further. To her surprise, it opened easily, showing two yellowed photographs inside.

"This is Asriel, and… this must have been..."

"What are you...?" asked Asgore. Hermione ignored him. She closed the locket again, and after rubbing grime and dust off it, the white 'A' could be made out clearly.

"I've seen this type of locket before. Don't Frisk and Asriel wear these?"

"Yeah they do," said Harry. "Were these common in the Underground?"

"Er, no," said Asgore. "Asriel had them custom made when… well it's hard to explain."

"Then what is this doing here? Why would Asriel throw it away? And how did it get so grimy so quickly?"

Asgore's golden brow furrowed in pondering this mystery. "Jerry, if I may, where did you find this locket?"

"Eh, in a bedroom of a house in New Home. A lot of dusty toys and drawings and stuff in it."

"It… it wouldn't have happened to be _my_ house, would it?"

"Huh, now you mention it, there were a lot of crown emblems everywhere." Jerry started absently picking his nose.

"And, er, what were you doing in my house?"

"Well I forgot to add milk to my coffee this morning, so I thought I'd borrow some from the fridge." He flicked what he had dug out onto the floor.

"Hmm, I do like to keep supplies for tea there when I meet with the miners," mused Asgore, entirely unperturbed about the intrusion.

"Maybe he took a notion after that accident the other day?" offered Ron. "Haven't a clue how you go from that to discarding a locket, though."

"That's a pretty big detour," said Hermione, "wouldn't anyone have noticed him being out of town for that long?"

"Stranger things have happened when you're upset about something, Hermione. Remember how weird Ginny was acting when she first came to Hogwarts?"

"Well yeah," said Harry, "but that was because of the diary, and-"

The locket fell to the floor with a loud clatter. The three of them were looking at each other, but were otherwise quite frozen.

"Hey, I have sensitive ears here!" He started digging into one to extract some wax.

"My goodness, are you alright? You've all gone rather pale."

An avalanche of understanding was cascading into Harry's mind, as the behaviour of two young children started lining up, and pointing to an alarming conclusion. Accompanying emotions were also flooding it instantly, as if they had been on standby for such an occasion. Shock at the dots that were connecting. Horror at what the implications of this revelation might mean. Incredible anger at himself for not picking up on it sooner. Remorse at the possible consequences of what he may have to do. And fear of what he was about to have to explain to the giant with claws and fire.

"So, do I still get that two hundred gold? I wanna upgrade my wi-fi."

* * *

It had been a very productive morning. Especially by a child's standards.

After breakfast, they had reported to the funfair. Among the other testers, to their surprise, Ursk was there. Asgore had invited him to help test the rides, as his father reported he was really upset about Lance, and Asgore had also promised Lance could come round if the doctors thought he had recovered. Brown fuzzy hands shook white fuzzy hands as Ursk thanked Asriel profusely for bringing Toriel, apologised for picking on him, and asking if maybe he could meet the human wizards some time. It had been a terrible way to achieve it, but the accident had at least one positive outcome, as Asriel returned the shaking enthusiastically.

This led into their official duties for the day. There were enough people there that the rides had a reasonable compliment, but not enough for any lines. The perfect mixture. They marched around to each ride one by one. Frisk was discovering another benefit to eating magical food, namely that no matter how wild the ride, they didn't feel nauseous at all, and there would have been nothing to throw up if they were.

After testing the bumper cars for the third time, they decided to sit on a bench near the entrance and eat the lunch their mother had packed for them. For the latter half of September, it really was a beautiful day outside. Maybe too beautiful for Asriel.

"Whew, is it all that running around we just did, or is it hot?"

"Couldn't tell you. No fur."

"Oh yeah," he grinned. He then unzipped his jacket. What was underneath it puzzled Frisk. They got off the bench again to get a proper look. His locket of course, and-

"You're wearing that blue t-shirt with the star," said Frisk, "isn't it too tight or anything?"

"I thought it might be," He got off the bench to to address them, "but when you went to the bathroom this morning I decided to try it on, as today felt really special. Turns out it still fits! Isn't that cool?"

'Cool' was not Frisk's first reaction. Toriel's look of confusion from the previous day was now allowing a red flag to wave enthusiastically in their mind. As they stared into Asriel's increasingly puzzled eyes, they were aware of a mild strain on the back of their neck. They moved their head side to side and rubbed their neck, and then resolved to look straight forward. That sealed it. They were staring at Asriel's forehead.

"Asriel," they said, not bothering to hide the worry, "when we first met. You know, in front of the barrier, we were the same height, yeah?"

"Yeah, I remember it well-"

"Well now I'm taller than you. Isn't that weird? I always thought since Mom and Dad were so huge you'd overtake me before long, or at least we'd keep the same pace until we were teenagers."

"W-well maybe I'll rocket past you then."

"Asriel, have… have you grown at all since you came out of the Underground?"

"Of course! I mean, I must have, surely. Why wouldn't I grow?" His puzzlement was shifting to fear. "What's wrong with-"

"Asriel?"

The booming voice forestalled a freakout as they turned to its source. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Asgore were approaching. Asgore had a look of utmost concern, Hermione was apprehensive, but Harry and Ron looked determined.

"Dad! Howdy guys! Are you gonna test the rides too? Harry, what's that in your-?"

Frisk registered it just as Asriel's voice died. a golden but grimy heart shaped locket, with a white 'A' in the middle. Just like the one Asriel was wearing. Wait a minute-

They didn't get a minute. Harry was in a hurry. He raised his wand.

" _Finite Incantatem._ "

The locket around Asriel's neck began to shimmer. The main body dipped further down his chest as the chain grew, and its shape was reforming from the familiar heart to a large oval. Its white 'A' faded to an emerald 'S'.

And Harry's scar began burning in earnest as the green eyes he was looking into turned a vivid scarlet.

"Asriel, wh-"

Asriel reached into his pocket, and threw something. Everything went black, utterly black. For a moment, Frisk thought they had been knocked out. Shouts of "Lumos" had no effect. Meanwhile, something light but with surprising force had crashed into Harry and toppled him over, and as he raised his arms instinctively, he could feel something scratch into them painfully.

"You seek to destroy me, Potter?" came a child's voice, high and cold, confirming Harry's worst fear. "Pay the price for your insolence!"

A small flame appeared in Harry's otherwise utterly dark vision, it raised up as if to strike, before suddenly being pulled away into a second, larger flame. This flame grew brighter, and Harry could see the large hands of Asgore. His fire magic seemed to overcome the darkness. Before Asriel could react, the fire had vanished, and the weight on Harry's chest lifted.

"Back the way we came!" came the barking command of Asgore. "Asriel, please-"

Harry crawled through the darkness. Sunlight mercifully reached his eyes, and he looked up at Asgore, who was struggling to keep Asriel from flailing free of his grasp.

"Asriel, this isn't you! You must-"

A series of small while pellets appeared in front of Asgore, and crashed into him, knocking him on his back and freeing Asriel. He turned to face Harry, who had gotten to his feet and was flanked by Ron and Hermione. He appeared to think better of attacking three at once, for he began to run. They immediately followed suit. They were naturally faster, but he kept shooting jets of flame at them to force them back. Eventually he led them through an alley, and took a sharp left next to a cart on the oncoming street, shouting something they didn't make out. It was Hermione who emerged first, wand clutched.

" _Petrificus tot-_ "

_PING._

Hermione shimmered a blue colour, and collapsed to the ground, as if suddenly weighing tenfold.

"heya."

Ron and Harry turned around. Sans was walking from the cart, unnoticed by them in the chase. His arm was outstretched, and in his left eye socket a blue light was flaring.

"Sans, let us go, we-"

"care to explain why the son of the king just yelled at me to stop you?"

"We don't have time, we-"

Three skulls, shaped like those of dragons, materialised above Sans' head, their maws opened menacingly and aimed at them.

"i got time to hear this. i better not hear any hocus pocus before you explain."

Harry agreed he wouldn't hear anything as he raised his wand. _Levicorpus!_

A flash of light from his wand, and Sans was hoisted by his ankle into the air. The dragon skulls disappeared, and Hermione found herself able to get to her feet.

"huh. so that's what that feels like."

"Sans?!" Asgore had finally caught up to the chase. "What are you doing?"

"oh, you know. just _hanging_ around."

"Something's wrong with Asriel. Help us find him."

"i'll get down to that as soon as i… get down. oof! thanks, pal."

Asriel was nearly at the top of the street when they resumed the chase. Mercifully he continued straight on, giving them a chance to catch up.

" _Incarcerous!_ "

The ropes from Ron's wand missed and wrapped themselves round a lamp post. Asriel took a sharp right, and Harry began to panic that if he took another turn and they lost sight of him-

"I said stand aside!"

As they rounded the corner, they found Asriel had stopped. His own mother stood before him.

"I shall not," she said coldly, but rapidly shifted to intense worry. "Those are not your eyes, Asriel. What is wrong?!"

More pellets appeared. "Do not think that I shall not strike-"

Asriel clutched his head and was shaking wildly. His readied attack vanished.

"No… no no no no no **NO!** Not again! I won't-"

" _Stupefy!_ " A jet of red light hit Asriel in the back, and he crumpled to the ground.

" _Asriel!!_ " screamed Toriel as the three of them advanced. "What did you do?!"

"It's just a stunning spell!" cried Hermione, trying to pierce the cold fury on Toriel's face, and ignoring how she exceeded her own height by a foot. "The locket! He had it all along, it's bewitched him!"

"The locket?! Wait, that is not his-"

Harry was vaguely aware of three more sets of footsteps coming from behind them, but he ignored this, as well as Toriel's protestations and questioning, as he knelt down, getting his first proper look at the prize. He reached down to grab it-

It was suddenly red hot, though it didn't affect Asriel at all. Harry felt his hand and his scar burn furiously again, and then his vision swam. Voices and shouts became confused, then disappeared entirely, as Harry had a confused memory of gritting his teeth inside Snape's Office, wand raised...

* * *

He was standing in a cavern in complete silence. Despite the lack of sunlight, he could make out all the details. The grey rocky roof suddenly shifted to purple brickwork, making it less of a cavern and more of a hallway. At the far end was a house with dark windows, and right before him was a jagged tree. There was not a single leaf on it, for they were all on the ground forming a thick ring around it. The tree looked enormous, its size matching any the Forbidden Forest might have grown. But something told Harry it was not that the tree was huge, but that he was a fraction of his usual size. As this occurred to him, he also realised couldn't feel his glasses. This led to the discovery that his arms and legs were absent as well. He wasn't sure what he was, but he wasn't himself. As he pondered this transformation, thoughts completely unconnected to his own began running through his head, if you could call it that. A second mind was racing, and it wasn't happy.

He was remembering the leaves. How he would roll around in them, and how his best friend would join in, usually after some coaxing. Despite the laughter from those days, it did not provoke any corresponding feelings in the present. He still expected something to emerge from his core. He yearned for it. Feeling that warmth after so long was indescribable. Even though it had only been for a few hours and it happened months ago, he thought of it constantly. Remembering the unexpected and undeserved hug… he found if he really thought hard, even if he could only remember the feelings in an abstract form, it was almost like actually feeling them. It still wasn't the same thing, but afterwards he could almost understand his promise again. That was important, as it was hard to explain to himself why he kept that promise to leave everyone alone. He'd been in a different frame of mind when he made it. An idiot's frame of mind.

While it had worked, it also brought forth genuine feelings. Frustration, mostly. He marvelled at how something so pretty could only accommodate anger and fear and despair when given voice. It was a cruel joke. One he'd been willing to laugh with for a long time. That too was almost like feeling. Although to laugh now would be a lot more final than it had been in the past. His genuine fear, which could also come from concentrating really hard on...less pleasant memories, was another thing that could keep him in check.

Despite having no apparent means of movement, he turned away from the three and the house and glided through the silent Ruins. The frustration continued to eat at him. It took all this effort to keep his word, and nobody really benefited. He couldn't even commit to a name consistently these days. There was no need to hide his true identity while he was busy hiding the rest of himself along with it, but old habits die hard, and while he tried to call himself by his true name as a way of helping him remember why he promised to stay here, on days where trying hard didn't appeal to him, he caught himself thinking of his assumed name. He usually didn't care when this happened.

Eventually, he reached his destination. A bed of golden flowers, blooming in the few places he could actually feel the sun. With the barrier broken, he could actually feel its warmth. And usually it actually felt warm and physically pleasant. But there was a dissonance as his core remained unresponsive. And today he was denied even that. Despite the sunlight all he could feel was a chilly breeze. It must be winter up top With a sigh, he looked down at his silent companions.

"What would you have done?"

Despite his frustration, his tone was flat. They probably weren't the best person to ask about this. Even when he was thinking like an idiot he'd been right in saying they weren't the best person. One of his pastimes these days was examining his memories for evidence of this, and it surprised him how much could be found. But still, he needed someone to talk to. Someone he hadn't hurt recently.

This was stupid. That's what the frustration was telling him. He didn't even know how long he would have to endure this. The crushing loneliness and boredom that he kept at bay by thinking really hard, but that was getting harder and harder to, well, care about. What would he do if he finally stopped pretending to care? It was either go back on the promise or… well, maybe somewhere else in the world could use a talking flower. Away from everyone. Away from the child who had saved him. Everyone else had moved on. Maybe it was time he did too. It would prevent another futile attempt to bring him home, at least. Perhaps it was time to truly let go.

It was a moot point for today at least. The frustration wasn't pointing him down that path. Right now he really wanted to break someone. Some _thing_ , he corrected himself, with little conviction. Fortunately, there was a small pile of rocks in a corner. Funny, he had never noticed them before. Maybe they'd fallen down a while back and he was so busy with his final goodbye or whatever that he never noticed. Oh well. Smash or be smashed, it seemed.

Leaves curiously entwining, almost looking like how one would crack their knuckles, two large vines suddenly sprouted from his stem, and whipped into the rock pile with tremendous force. As some flew through the air, there was a _PING-PING-PING_ as white pellets flew into them, shattering them into pebbles that scattered among the floor leading towards the door. The sliver of satisfaction such aimless smashing granted made him feel, well, he wasn't sure "better" was the right word, but the frustration had quietened down.

He lingered there in silence for a long while. He didn't know if this was the best part or the worst part of his existence. When he literally felt nothing, good or bad. You could describe it as peaceful, he supposed. Finally, he thought of maybe of heading over to Waterfall. Maybe his music box could help him nearly feel something.

And then he did feel something, but not in the sense he had meant.

Looking over at where the rock pile had been, something caught his attention. After having so many, he'd been left with a sense for others, and this one felt unusual. Somehow it felt rather fragile but tremendously potent. But he wasn't mistaken.

It was a soul.

Among the debris, a large golden locket rested, with an ornate 'S' written in glittering emeralds. It was immensely magical on its own, he could tell that straight away, but the real prize was contained within. The idiot in him said to leave it alone, that no matter how unlikely such an occurrence this was he had no right to try and use someone else's soul. His gnawing frustration dismissed this out of hand. If you're gonna stuff your soul into a locket, why throw it away? Finders keepers.

He gingerly lifted the locket using his vines, and tried to draw the soul into him. It did not move. The magic of the locket protected it. In frustration, he threw it around, fired pellets at it, but it remained completely untarnished. Eventually he flung it in such a way that it landed around his stem. It was then he heard something.

_Interesting..._

Something swooped over him. He felt like he was being poked and prodded by a large crowd. He was entirely on display, with nothing to hide. Only a soul could have allowed him to resist this proving, his instincts told him.

_My my, you are a fascinating being. And you've led a fascinating life. **Two** fascinating lives, I should say._

"Hey buddy, stay out of my head!"

_Now now, there is no need for hostility. We can help each other._

"Why should I?"

I can give you what you want. And we do not even need to form a true union. Observe.

The soul remained where it was, but he began to feel a connection with it. The magic of the locket itself seemed to bolster it, and as the connection strengthened he realised it was only part of a soul. He didn't understand why that would happen, but he was not in a position to be picky. Experimentally, he thought of that last hug again. That undeserved forgiveness when he was all alone. It was a while before anything happened, as if the soul was unpractised in expressing such things, but eventually he felt a warmth. Small at first, but as he dwelled on it, it grew and grew.

"Frisk..."

He closed his eyes, bathing in the feeling. It was affection. It had been so long, he wanted it to fill him up. And it did. A tear formed on his cheek. He barely registered the voice speaking again.

_And we can do more. I know what you should be. The way you regained your true form once before was most inefficient, using a hammer to forge a rock into a crude shape. I do not need so much raw power. I shall be a chisel. Relax._

Something deep within him, a pressure, built up. Before he could ponder the feeling, it suddenly spread to his whole form, filling him with an indescribably pleasant sensation. He gasped at the intensity of it.

And that was when he realised that if he could gasp, he could breathe. He was actually breathing.

He opened his eyes. White furry hands were peeking from green and yellow sleeves rested on the ground, right before the other golden flowers. He tried to flex his fingers and hope and amazement filled his heart fit to burst as the fingers responded. Then those hands were feeling his muzzle and tugging on his ears and he looked down at equally white paws he lifted up to inspect and he could feel all of it and it was _him_ it really was.

He was him again.

To make sure this wasn't one of his crueller dreams, he rummaged behind his back, finally located his tail and yanked it with all his might. He bleated in pain, and the sensation filled him with joy.

He was him again!

Laugher filled his brand new lungs as he stretched and twitched and took novelty in all the new sensations he had not been able to avail of the last time he was in his original form. But eventually, as he did, the person he thought of returned.

"Frisk!"

He had to see them. He took off from the flower bed, marvelling in the sensation of running as the locket bounced around on his chest, and was determined to see Frisk again and thank them for everything. And Dad. He could see Dad again! And Mom...

His running slowed, and eventually stopped. The smile on his face was dissolving.

He was remembering Toriel's warm smile. As it suddenly twisted into a look of shock and pain, and he watched her collapse into dust. And then he remembered her face full of anger as she collapsed again. And one time when she never even knew what had killed her, there was only mild surprise.

"No..."

Other memories were coming unbidden. His father on his knees, making peace with Frisk before he had come along and shattered it. Papyrus reassuring him he could be better as his skull came away from his disintegrating body. Undyne cursing a blue streak as his vines had seized Alphys and was trying to pull her apart. Sans pinning his stem to the wall as a dragon skull shrouded him in agonizing light. Watching his best friend vomit violently while what was killing them rested in his pockets...

"No, no, no. I'm sorry..."

He curled up into a ball. More monsters. More cruel deaths. Looks of fear, of shock, of anger or hatred, and sometimes just a half-faltered smile. Without something to focus on, he couldn't keep them in check. How could he deserve to live after all this? He wanted to-

_Now, now. If these trouble you, I shall take the burden for you._

The horror and guilt he was feeling began to lessen. The memories were still unpleasant, but he could tolerate dwelling on them. And shortly, he found he could stop thinking about them altogether. His breathing slowed, and he got back to his feet.

_If such acts affect you like so, perhaps it is best you do not recall me. I cannot afford squeamishness. For now, I have much I'd like to learn about your kind. Let us go to your family. Home._

He marched with a more deliberate pace this time. As he did, a hand rested on the locket, and an unbidden spell began to change its shape. At the same time, his memories were shifting. He no longer remembered the locket or the voice. It was a miracle that had returned him to his true form, nothing else.

_Home..._

But Harry remembered it.

The scene shifted. To Harry's shock, he was looking down at the spread-eagled body of Albus Dumbledore, faintly lit by the Dark Mark in the sky, but only for a moment. He was suddenly looking at a blanket, and he felt tangled up in it. Tears started flowing down his furry face as a voice inquired with worry. Then the light came on and he was scooped up in Toriel's arms.

A trip to the kitchen and talking with her and Frisk was a blur, and he miserably settled down into bed. In spite of what he was thinking of, he fell asleep pretty quickly. This time he dreamt of a room covered in velvet, and he felt as though he was being watched. A voice came to him as if the room itself was speaking.

_I am sorry. You have no need to dwell on that._

"Wait, who are-"

_Do not worry. You can repay me soon._

He woke in the same bed a second time. His first dream did not trouble him so much. The second dream had vanished entirely. But not from Harry's memory.

The scene shifted again. It was night time. He had tapped his head and felt something cold trickle down his body, watching his arms disappear. He then proceeded to point at a door. The lock trembled violently and then burst apart. He heard a voice in his head, but it was different.

_I don't like doing this. Stop it, please._

"You wish to protect the monsters, do you not? Only he can. Only I can. If we find him, he shall give you a just reward. If it makes you feel any better, you shall not remember your role in this either."

_Either? What do you mean?_

He walked over to the till, and poured its contents into a purse, making sure not to touch anything. The purse then disappeared into his phone, a welcome home/apology gift from Alphys.

Another shift. A brief look at a large wooden box painted purple and orange labelled _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_ in a dark room. And then he was in the Velvet Room again.

_It is nearly time._

"What do you mean?"

_I have gone easy on you. I have laid low since those wizards arrived. I stopped pestering you to dwell on travelling to Britain, let your natural curiosity probe them for information, with only one or two queries of my own. You have done well. You have discovered everything I need to know. But your playtime is over. They are a threat. They mean to destroy me._

"Destroy you? Who are you?"

_Do not demand answers of me, child._

"You're wrong, Harry just wants to help people!"

At my expense.

Realisation and horror mounted in equal steps. "You… you're You-Know-Who!"

_A part of him. Do not be so surprised, boy. You have rendered a great service, protecting the legacy of Lord Voldemort._

He shuddered at the name. "Why does he- why do you hurt people?"

_They are in my way. Do not join them. We shall find myself soon. But first I shall see if there is an opportunity to do away with my vanquisher._

"No! I won't help you hurt anyone!"

_After all I have done for you? Hasn't your mother always taught you to appreciate the kindness others show you? I can rescind it if you really wish. Perhaps you wish to be left a soulless flower once again?_

"Maybe I'd rather be Flowey again than hurt people!"

_Very well. But not yet. I am not finished with you. If we cannot dispatch with Harry Potter, then you still need to deliver me to safety, and a body with legs is more suitable for travel. Enjoy the taste of what resistance shall bring you._

He jerked awake. Once again he did not remember the dream. He felt ill however. The next two days of tossing and turning in bed were a blur, before-

"Hey, Prince, what do you want?!"

He was facing Lance and Ursk in an alley. Savage triumph and desperate terror were swirling around.

"I am settling loose ends."

_No, please..._

"What's with the formal talk?"

"The two of you have impugned my host. His anger at your behaviour makes this easier for me, but I must ensure he cannot resist, for we shall depart this pathetic town soon. I had thought perhaps after the bicycles and the childish squabble over a hat you may have learned your lesson. I shall make my final lesson the harshest."

_No, NO!_

"Our bikes? What the hell are you talking about resisting? What's with your eyes-"

With his hands suddenly raised, the two lifted into the air. They flailed in panic and confusion, until they caught hold of the raised ladder of a fire escape. He released them from his hover charm. 

_I don't want this, I didn't mean to get angry. I'm sorry! **STOP IT!**_

With a cruel wave of his hand, the ladder was wrenched from its supports, allowing them to fall. Harry felt his own horror and anguish in addition to whatever Asriel felt as the scene took an eternity to play out. When it finally concluded, he marched up to the two crumpled heaps.

"Once again, you shall have inflicted these injuries yourself."

Another wave passed over their heads. Lance's half-open eyes became glassy as memories of getting into a reckless dare with Ursk entered his mind. Ursk underwent a similar process.

"This is my last mercy, Prince. Save the Muggle ingrate if you wish."

The entire scene was replaced with the horror of having come across them like this. But once again, Harry remembered...

He bolted upright in bed. His brain thick and confused, and his body felt much heavier than he had been in those dreams or visions or whatever they were. For a moment he absently wondered why his hands didn't have any fur, and where Frisk or Toriel or Asgore were. Ron and Hermione were there however, looking both relieved and intensely worried.


	11. The Underground Again

"It's exactly like what happened to Ginny! How did we miss it? How could we have been so thick?!" Ron was pacing furiously, but it was fury aimed entirely at himself.

"Ron, we've only been here a fortnight. Ginny was possessed for months, you could see how she changed over time. How could we pick up on something like that in two weeks when we've never met him before?" Hermione's words made perfect sense, but she didn't feel very convinced.

"You're right, Hermione, but I don't really care," muttered Harry.

They had spent the last twenty minutes exchanging information, Harry relaying Asriel's unintentional partnership with the Horcrux as Ron and Hermione described what happened when he passed out. Everyone present tried to take the locket off Asriel, or even just move it separately from him, but it either burned too hot to touch or simply refused to budge. Even Sans' control over gravity wouldn't shift it. Asriel was currently unconscious in his bed next door, and Harry had been laid up in what he recognised as Toriel's guest room. A few hours had passed from when he touched the locket. In the middle of their conversation Frisk entered the room, holding assorted objects. They had searched Asriel's phone and emptied it, revealing more than enough money to travel anywhere in the world, a small food stockpile, a cache of products from Sans' order from Fred and George, and a map of Britain. Inspecting the map, Harry found several notes and annotations, including one in Wiltshire labelled 'Lucius'. The handwriting taunted him with its familiarity, identical as it was to writing he once saw in a magical diary. The Horcrux had intended to seek safety with the Death Eaters, and probably discard Asriel afterwards, probably assuaging him with empty words if he was allowed to be aware at all.

"So how do we get the locket away from him?" asked Ron.

"It's tricky," Hermione was fretting. "I think he's worn it so long he's forged a real bond with it, even if he doesn't like it. You have to persuade him to take it off. And that's if he doesn't attack us again."

"And what are you going to do with this locket?" asked Frisk.

"Destroy it," said Harry flatly, "you've seen what it can do, it's dangerous."

"And what about the soul inside?"

The three of them froze. "Erm-" began Ron.

"Don't even try. I've figured it out. For whatever reason, a wizard stuck their soul inside a magic locket. I bet it was You-Know-Who."

"And what makes you say that?" Harry's heart wasn't in the sport of trying to hide it. People around here were too good at guessing.

"Because Flowey couldn't have turned back into Asriel without a soul. But it's not part of him, because he hasn't grown since he came back. You know how big Mom and Dad are, he should be taller than me by now, but it's the opposite. The soul is letting him use it, but not be a part of him, right?"

The feeble bluff firmly called, Harry just sighed. "It's actually just a piece of his soul. But yeah, you're right. It's nasty dark magic to try and protect him. That's why we have to destroy it."

"How?"

"Really dangerous magic stuff." Now was not the time for the fine points.

"And the piece of soul will disappear?" He nodded. "And Asriel..."

Harry thought back to the velvet dream, how Asriel said he was willing to throw his life aside to protect others. It was probably that attitude that led him to break the barrier. He said nothing however.

"Is there wizard magic that can help him?"

"Why not try transfiguring him when he changes back?" offered Ron.

"And do you know all the finer details of how to turn a flower into a monster, Ron?" retorted Hermione. "Professor McGonagall might be able to do it if she knew anything about monsters, but even then that doesn't address the lack of a soul. For all we know he'll be just as unable to care. I can't think of anything else."

Frisk began to tremble.

"Asriel… no… please, there must..."

Harry tried to put a hand on their shoulder, but they shrugged it off.

"Frisk," he said, unsure of how to phrase it, but resolved to try, "I know what we're asking, and what that means. But if we don't do anything soon, the outcome will be worse. If he becomes fully possessed, that wrecks everything. Not just him, or you, or your parents, but the people he'll go on to hurt on his way back to his owner. The people You-Know-Who will kill while the locket protects him. You can't think Asriel would want to be part of that, do you?"

Frisk looked resolutely into Harry's face, even though tears were welling in those grey eyes. Harry felt dreadful, bearing witness to a child's vulnerability and being the direct cause of it.

"You-you're right," they stuttered, "he'd never knowingly put his happiness above other people's lives. But how can I ask him to go back to… to that again after-"

" _ **ASRIEL!!!**_ "

The scream came from the next room over, the children's room. The four of them dashed out to the hallway and saw the door already open.

"Mom, what-?"

It was a mournful sight. Asgore and Toriel stood in the middle of the room, paying the spectators no mind, sobbing uncontrollably and hugging each other tightly as an old wound had been cruelly aggravated by a fresh attack. The window was open, and there was no sign of Asriel. A sheet of paper lay forgotten at their feet, with at least two wet tear stains on it. Frisk picked it up and began to read, Hermione crouched over their shoulder.

_Howdy,_

_I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. Whatever Harry did, I can remember everything about this locket now. I should never have come back. All I've done is cause more pain, and now I have to cause a little more. I think I can resist its effects for now, but it's too dangerous to keep around here. I'm going to go somewhere safe and alone, and I'm going to destroy it. Once I do, chances are you won't see me again._

_Dad, please don't be mad at Harry and his friends, this isn't their fault. Don't cause more pain on my behalf, I'm not worth it. Mom, thanks for all the pie. Please make sure Dad doesn't do something he'll regret. Frisk, you can have all my toys. And thank you, for everything. I could never have come back at all without you. Take care of them for me again, okay?_

_And Harry, it was cool to meet you. Good luck in your quest._

_Goodbye. I love you all so so much._

_Asriel_

Frisk's own tears, interrupted by Toriel's cry, resumed in earnest. Hermione was compartmentalising however, calculating the ramifications of this letter.

"He won't be able to destroy it on his own," she said, "and if he's utterly alone and it takes control again-"

"Wizards..."

The four of them looked at the couple in the room. They appeared to have finally registered their audience, and had broken apart. Asgore was looking at them, a fire in his eyes. A dry heat descended on the room.

"They sealed us away for five hundred years, abandoned us to die. I've watched friends who dusted out of pure despair. A human offered us the hope of living in peace, and my son died for that hope. I drove away the woman I love, destroyed what was left of my family, and committed six unforgivable acts to keep the rest of monsterkind going. I have endured that torture for a century. And now wizards have played the cruellest trick, dangling my son in front of us for months and tearing him away from us once more!"

Toriel had stepped clear of him, naked fear on her face. He adopted a broad stance, and with a flash a bright red trident appeared in his huge hands. His kindly face had warped into a twisted snarl of rage, his razor sharp teeth on prominent display. For the first time, he looked as terrifying as Harry would expect a monster to look. Flames started to swirl around his hands. The heat was becoming unbearable. Harry absently fumbled for his wand.

" _NOW WHY SHOULDN'T I JUST-_ "

" _ **NO!!!**_ "

Frisk stood upright and flung their arms out, looking defiantly at Asgore with determination etched into their face.

"Harry didn't do any of this! He's trying to help! And yeah, the wizards sealed you away. But they regretted it! We found an old wizard house the other day, and there was a letter from someone called Aurelian Orbis about how they tried for two hundred years to break the barrier, but when they couldn't they sacrificed themselves! They cast a spell to make sure you could never be sealed again. Seven men and women gave up their lives for you! Don't let that be in vain!"

The standoff continued. Asgore's furious face stared down at the small child for the second time.

"Do you think Asriel wants this?"

Finally, he relented. His trident vanished. His face melted from rage to anguish which looked a century old, which Harry reminded himself it actually was. The room began to cool again. He fell to his knees with a light thud, utterly defeated by a child's resolve.

"...I… I knew a Septimius Orbis… before the war..." he said softly. Fresh tears flowed unchecked.

With her ex-husband's incapacitation, Toriel decided to take charge. She had just about managed a calm face, but it was clearly strained at the edges.

"Hermione, you said he cannot destroy this locket by himself?"

"Yes. It's heavily protected. Unless you have a basilisk or a dragon handy it's incredibly dangerous to destroy it. I doubt he has the power to do it himself."

"That is academic until we find him. We can worry about it later." Although she had a somewhat stern approach even at her most motherly, Toriel was now radiating the authority of a true Queen. "I shall notify the Royal Guard to be on the lookout for him. Perhaps Sans or Papyrus can notify the rest of the town as well."

"I've got someone who can help," said Harry, and with a deep breath called. "Kreacher!"

_CRACK._

Toriel and Frisk gazed in surprise at the newcomer. Asgore looked up with mild interest.

"Is that… a House Elf?"

"Master Harry called Kreacher?"

"Yeah." Harry spotted a photograph of Asriel and Frisk on a shelf, and seized it. "I need you to find the white-furred child in this photograph. He's run away from home and we need to make sure he's safe. Don't accost him, just report back where he went, and then take us back with you. Oh, and he has Master Regulus' locket."

"Master Regulus'..." Kreacher's huge eyes bulged. "Kreacher will find the child, Master Harry!" With another crack, he was gone.

Toriel had not chosen to rely solely on Harry's contributions. The moment Kreacher vanished, she was on the phone to Undyne explaining the situation. As she talked, Frisk was encouraging Asgore to get to his feet, and pulling him by his beefy arm.

"Sit down in the living room, Dad. I'll make tea. I think I know how to make it properly now."

An hour later, King and Queen were sitting in the chairs flanking the fireplace. Toriel had allowed herself to explain what she had set in motion, including asking Sans to look around independently, before finally breaking down into the tears she had kept in check since Asgore's outburst. Their grief was a focus point for Frisk, ever determined to honour Asriel's request. More out of something to do than anything else, Hermione had retrieved the documents and journals they'd taken from the Orbis House and offered them to Asgore. He looked over them silently, perhaps reacting mechanically to a passage here or there.

"Septimius… he had a clever trick for adding unusual flavours to his tea. But he grew distant in the weeks before the war. I halways wondered..."

Toriel had been following a different line of thought. "Hermione."

"Yes?"

"In his letter. He said ridding himself of the locket would likely result in his not being able to return. Why? Is the act of breaking it dangerous beyond the means you employ?"

Harry felt a dull thud in his stomach. Even when they had realised where the locket was and what it was doing, they hadn't explained what removing it from Asriel would do. Revealing you knew more about their son than they did was an awkward conversation. In any case Asgore had been distracted by the news that his son was being bewitched, the specific details weren't necessary at the time. And by looking at Hermione and Ron, none of them were willing to spell out that, from what they understood, there was no happy ending to this crisis.

"It can be," Hermione finally started with. "As you said, the destructive force needed is just one aspect of the process. If he's had the locket the whole time, that bond will be really strong. No matter how you break it, the consequences… well I don't know what would happen."

Unseen by either parent, Frisk looked at them, torn between gratitude for not spelling out Asriel's likely fate and annoyance for keeping the truth from them. Toriel fixed her with an appraising look.

"I see. In any case, such an enchantment on our son is intolerable, especially after what it made him do today. If you can lift it from him, you have my support. Even if… even if that means..."

"We'll try to protect him!" cried Hermione as she also struggled with what destroying the Horcrux likely meant. "If there's a way to do it, we will!"

"I thank you for the sentiment," replied Toriel astutely, "but you are not being honest. You know of no way."

Her shoulders slumped. Asgore just continued to be absorbed in Septimius' journal. Dwelling on the unhappy past seemed a better strategy than contemplating the agonising future. A bitter silence settled in the room. Harry couldn't stand it. He felt like leaping to his feet and heading out the front-

_CRACK._

"Kreacher!"

Everyone gazed at him intently. His tennis ball eyes had a pained look.

"Kreacher… Kreacher has failed!" He began to tear up.

"Kreacher, I order you to calm down!" shouted Harry. Kreacher took huge gulping breaths, and the tears were kept in check. "Now, please explain what happened."

"Kreacher located the child. He was making no attempt to conceal himself. As Master commanded, Kreacher followed from a distance. The child went up a mountain path, and into a large cave entrance. Kreacher attempted to follow, but Kreacher could not apparate to inside the cave entrance! Kreacher could have followed on foot, but if Kreacher did, it would be impossible to return to Master and explain. Kreacher is sorry, Master."

"It, it's okay Kreacher. You've done a good job."

"He must have fled to the Underground," said Asgore, true life in his eyes awakening for the first time since he read Asriel's letter. He rose to his feet. "I'll summon the Royal Guard and mount a search-"

"No, Asgore," said Toriel, "too many people may alarm him, and it would be difficult to explain about the locket properly. If someone uninformed encounters him, he may do something reckless and hurt them. Pick only a few. Those who can protect themselves, or who can reach out to him when he is distressed."

"Yes, you're right."

"I shall wind down the search before following you. It is best we do not worry the townsfolk too much with our personal burdens. If this tale is destined to end in tragedy, then it is our tragedy to bare alone."

Conflict wrestled on Asgore's face, but only for a moment. "Not alone, Tori. Together. Like we should have before." She nodded, and both of them turned to the wizards. "Can you help us get organised?"

Harry shook his head. "No, it's best we find him as quickly as possible, before the locket makes him do anything else. Kreacher, can you take us to the cave entrance?"

"Yes, Master. Kreacher shall make up for his failure."

"You can come with us if you want."

"More than anything," said Toriel in a pained voice, "but we do need to settle things before we head off, lest panic spread. Besides, you are more knowledgeable of how to handle the locket, we would be mere witnesses to whatever you do. Go ahead, and if you find him…" she took a steadying breath, "please assure him that we love him no matter what he does. Or is."

Toriel had always been sharp, and she'd clearly picked up on what Hermione had tried not to say. Asgore merely looked slightly puzzled. Deciding that explaining would be crueller, Harry merely nodded. Ron and Hermione held Kreacher's hands, while Harry held Hermione's.

"Is Master ready?"

"Yes."

"Frisk, what are-?"

Harry felt his free hand suddenly grasped, and then was pulled into the crushing darkness.

* * *

The setting sun suddenly dazzled him as he could breathe again. The two hands that held his released their grasp. A series of light coughs came from his left.

"That's how wizards get around? That's horrible! Couldn't you use a magic carpet or something?"

"They're banned," said Ron without thinking, and then realised what had happened. "Oi, are you mental?! You could have been splinched! We don't know how to fix that properly!"

"If..." Frisk coughed again, "If you think I'm sitting at home pretending everything's fine when it's clearly not, you're the mental one! Besides - *cough* - if he's in the Underground, there's only one place he could be headed!"

"Really? How do you know?"

"...It's where he went last time." Frisk rubbed their arm as they thought about it.

"Lead the way, then," said Harry, content to cede jurisdiction to the resident expert. "Kreacher, if the King arrives, tell him we've gone ahead. Other than that, keep out of sight."

"Yes, Master." He bowed deeply, and disappeared with a crack.

"Why couldn't Kreacher apparate inside anyway?" asked Ron. "I know we haven't been able to apparate, but I thought house elves didn't give a monkeys about where wizards couldn't go."

"Mount Ebott was the focal point of Aurelian's spell, remember," said Hermione, "it must be at its most powerful there. Even house elves can't penetrate it."

"Can we worry about that later?" Impatience saturated Frisk's tone. "I've probably given Mom and Dad a heart attack already, I don't want them to catch up to us before we find him."

"Right," said Harry, pulling out his wand. " _Lumos._ " Hermione and Ron copied him. "Let's go."

It had only been a few months since Harry accompanied Dumbledore into a cave full of magic, and now he was doing it again for the very same prize. His headmaster's discussion of how magic leaves traces came to mind as he felt a vague tingling at the back of his neck. This must have been the threshold of the barrier, its traces still lingering after a year. Frisk led the way with absolute confidence. Their being in front meant that as they crossed that same threshold, nobody noticed their eyes shimmer gold for a moment.

The rough cavern soon gave way to a smoothly shaped corridor that bent the right then left. They had to pause to take it in what was at the end. A room with pillars and stone walls, but the floor was covered in golden flowers. Flowers that had overgrown a large chair in the middle.

"The throne room," said Frisk.

From the throne room, they continued to a long walkway overlooking a dense looking city. It must have gotten really cramped when the barrier was still here. Only a few lights were visible however, clustered in one area. Frisk ushered them into a lift, and in a short amount of time they stepped out into what looked like the lobby of a hotel. The few monsters there looked curiously at the strangers, but relaxed as they saw Frisk clearly taking the lead. Frisk must carry as much respect as Asgore in some parts, thought Harry.

A wall of heat swallowed them as they left the hotel, and it they soon saw why. The orange glow gave them some warning, but it was still a shock when they looked over a vast array of platforms and buildings all suspended above a small sea of lava. They didn't have to stand out in the heat for long, fortunately. Another lift took them down to a crossroads.

"The River Person moved to the surface to offer tours of the lake. I guess we're taking the long road."

The sweltering heat was soon past them as they stepped clear of the lake's threshold. They instinctively began to shiver, even though the new environment was more damp than cold. And it was damp. The walls glinted as their wandlight reflected off them, and there was a constant drip-drip-drip as water fell from the ceiling so regularly it was like rain. There were also large and freshly dug side tunnels that a few monsters were walking in and out of, stray words about mining operations reaching their ears.

Passing a small cluster of houses, they followed a path leading over water that positively glowed with whatever bioluminescent life lived within it. The path was broken however, as a disproportionately small gap blocked their path. A bird stood on one side, and chirped excitedly at their approaching, but before it could act, Ron and Hermione waved their wands and conjured planks of wood to bridge the gap. They crossed single file, not paying the bird any further mind as it looked affronted.

It took their eyes a while to adjust to the darkness again after how brightly that water had glowed, but as they eventually did, they heard something unexpected. Music. It grew louder and louder, until they came across a statue of a horned monster sitting on the floor with an umbrella in its hand. A music box must have been inside it, playing a peaceful lullaby.

"I heard this got moved to the main path. He… He must have wanted to listen to it one more time, while he could still appreciate it."

_He'll appreciate it again…_

"Huh?"

"Huh, what?"

"Did you guys say something?"

"Nope," said Ron, "maybe the music made you think we did?"

"No, I thought I… never mind." But they sounded unsure. "Let's keep moving."

Continuing past the statue, the path soon ended again. But this time there was a raft to ferry them across the water. It was difficult for the four of them to stay on comfortably, and as Harry prodded it with his wand to make it move, the almost black water made him think again of a similar journey undertaken with Dumbledore. It made him ready to conjure fire at the first disturbance of the water. But mercifully, the only disturbance was the raft bumping against a pier at the far side of the water, and they carefully stepped off, not wanting a bath right now.

"Hey," said Ron, his voice smashing the silence, "what if, you know, he's a flower again, and we give him a cheering charm? Then maybe he won't be miserable?"

"That's a drop in the ocean, Ron. It won't last long, and it's not a lack of happiness that's the problem. And before you ask, no, love potions probably won't help either."

"Alright," he muttered, "just trying to help."

"What about all that stuff from the Orbis House?" suggested Harry. "Ebott were studying the soul for centuries. Was there anything about creating one?"

"Nothing concrete. Their work on the charm of sacrifice seems to have been the most advanced they ever got. It was all about using existing souls, not creating a brand new one. Though obviously I wish they'd looked into that."

Frisk's hands trembled a little as they discussed futile methods of helping Asriel. They really wanted to help, but all these dead ends were making this whole trip feel less like a rescue and more of a… they didn't want to say.

_It will be fine…_

Hermione walked into Frisk, who had stopped. "Oh, what's wrong?"

"I definitely heard something! 'Fine', I think."

Harry looked at them. "None of us said that. Well, Ron said 'sign', are you sure you heard it right?"

"Yes. No. I don't know."

"You must have," said Ron, "these walls echo a lot, that- What-?"

They had just acclimated to the ambient temperature from the soaring heat of Hotland, and a sudden icy wind blew straight through them all, giving them the briefest of notice. Crossing another threshold, they were amazed once more. Despite the outside world being at the very end of summer, the small town before them was covered in snow and ice.

"B-blimey," shivered Ron, "d-didn't think I'd have to get a b-bloody scarf."

"Oh, sorry. I forgot about Snowdin."

Hermione pointed her wand at Ron. He felt a rush of hot air, and found he could cope better with the icy winds. She repeated the spell three times.

"It's meant to dry you off, but it should work for this too."

The wind was still bitter cold, but the spell took the brunt of it as they passed through the town - Harry was able to recognise Grillby's old restaurant by sight - and into a vast forest. Odd mechanical devices, long deactivated, were strewn around the path. There were several sections where the path was iced over entirely, and they had to tread carefully. They all slipped at least once, except for Frisk, who glided along with a confident familiarity. Finally, a large purple doorway in a sheer cliff stood before them. The door was already open. Asriel hadn't bothered to block the path behind him.

Another smooth corridor, a flight of stairs, and a surprise. They were in a small house. In spite of how deep in the Underground they must be and the complete lack of sunlight, two windows gazed out on the gloomy yard and dead looking tree that Harry saw as a flower. The floors were dusty, but a set of paw prints led to the open front door.

"He did come this way! I was right!"

Frisk broke into a run. Harry, Ron and Hermione followed. They looked at the caved-in ceilings and half-broken pillars and appreciated how long monsters must have lived here. Frisk continued to bob and weave around more disarmed devices, over the path of a cracked floor with holes everywhere. And eventually, a bridge full of spikes. Frisk's chosen path seemed to have the spikes retract to allow passage, so the three of them copied their route precisely.

In spite of the anticipation of the opportunity to deal a major blow to Voldemort, the whole time they were running, Harry felt like they were headed towards an execution. Not their own of course, but in many ways that was worse. They were truly out of ideas. Asriel's predicament was just too unique for anything they knew of in the Wizarding World to offer any help. Whenever they destroyed the locket, whenever they got rid of the other Horcruxes and faced him, he was going to take relish in doing it, as it might help assuage the guilt clutching at his chest.

_Nearly there..._

"Nearly there!"

As they approached one more archway, they noticed a flickering light up ahead. Passing through and turning to the right, they finally spotted their quarry. He was standing with his back to them, before a familiar bed of flowers, arms raised, as a flame shone brightly in front of him.

"Come on, come one… this has to do it..."

The fire vanished. They could hear his heavy breathing.

"Nothing. Why won't you-"

He finally heard them approach, and turned around. His eyes were heavily shadowed, and his fur clung to him like he'd been sweating.

"Frisk?! What are you-"

"You know exactly what I'm doing."

Despite how exhausted he looked, he smiled. "Yeah, I guess I do. I can't come with you, though. How did they take the letter?" Frisk looked away. "Exactly. I can't do that to them a third time. Or to you."

Despondency settled in Frisk's stomach like a lead weight. If a solution was at hand, nobody was offering it. They fixed Asriel with a look of determination, a way of promising him that it would turn out alright in the end. A look that was undermined by the tears that started to flow.

Asriel looked beyond them, and smiled again in spite of the situation. "Oh, Harry!"

Harry glanced around Asriel. On the ground before the flowers laid the locket.

"How were you able to take that off?"

Asriel's smile faltered. "It, it was really hard. It's been screaming at me since it sensed what I'm trying to do. But if I think really hard about… stuff like Mom and Dad, and Frisk, and how I love them, I can stop it taking over. I don't know how long that will last, though."

Harry thought back to his previous encounters with Voldemort, and Asriel's remedy seemed to make sense. "That's probably one of the best things you could have done. What made you think to do that?"

"I've spent lots of time concentrating on happy memories. As you know, Harry."

"Wait, you mean-"

"Yeah. You know about Flowey. Frisk told you. And now you even kinda know what it's like." He placed a hand on Frisk's shoulder. "Don't worry, I'm not angry. I'm grateful you're so worried."

"But who told you?" asked Frisk.

"Harry, sort of. When I got knocked out, I dreamed. Remembered, really. The locket's been making me forget stuff or think something different happened. But now I remember everything it did. Everything _I_ did. And throughout the dream I felt Harry was there. You have a connection to this locket too, right? To You-Know-Who?" Harry nodded. "Well through that connection, we saw the truth of what happened together. I, uh, I also got a few glimpses of your memories, sorry. That's how I know Frisk told you. And, well, I'm sorry about what happened to Cedric."

That he would have taken the time to remember Harry's interrupted story and offer his sympathies in the middle of such a situation was remarkable. It made him feel worse for what he was asking Asriel to do, even though Asriel had already been trying to do it.

"And I have to thank you for making me realise what was going on. I know what I have to do. He's clawing at me even now. I'm trying to stop him, but I can't break it-"

"You won't be able to," said Hermione, "that locket has some of the most powerful protections known to wizards. There are only a few things that can destroy it safely, and we don't have any of them on hand."

Asriel's eyes widened in fear. "But I can't wait for you to find of them! He'll take over again and make me leave before you do!"

"Here," said Ron, "what if we take the locket off your hands and break the bond by moving it far away from-"

Harry saw a trace of scarlet in Asriel's eyes, but he grasped his head and shook it fiercely. The trace was gone when he settled down.

"If you try and take it, h-he'll make me attack you again. It was hard enough to take it off!"

They were at a stalemate. It was either fight Asriel to seize the locket by force, or hope there was a vial of basilisk venom or something not too far from here. Neither had pleasant outcomes.

"Safely..."

Everyone turned to Frisk. They almost didn't want to pipe up, but even they knew seeing Flowey again was the better outcome than having Asriel endure this any longer than he had to.

"You said you can't destroy it safely right now. Do you have a dangerous way of destroying it?"

Harry thought back to their discussion of Horcrux disposal from the day they set out from Grimmauld Place. "Well, there's Fiendfyre..."

"Harry, no!" cried Hermione. "If we lose control, it could spread through the entire Underground! Hundreds would be killed!"

"Is that magic fire?" asked Asriel.

"Yes, but it's powerful dark magic, and it has a will of its own. If I can't extinguish it, it will spread for miles and miles!"

Asriel smiled. "I don't know if you knew, but I can control magic fire. Just like Mom and Dad! Let me show you."

They looked at each other uncertainly. It was Ron who broke the ice by raising his wand. " _Incendio._ "

A jet of flame erupted from his wand, currently aimed at the wall. Then the flames bent, and detached themselves from his wand. They streaked around Asriel, who had raised his arms, forming a perfect circle. The circle rose above him, and contracted into a single ball of flame, which then rested in his open palm. He allowed them to gaze at it for a moment, and then it vanished. Everyone was suitably impressed.

"I think this might work, Hermione."

"It might, but it still feels terribly risky. Is there a way to contain the flames if they get out of hand?"

"The doorway from Snowdin." Said Frisk. "It's a foot thick and solid stone."

"Are we going to go there now?" Asriel trembled a little. "I don't want to touch the locket again."

"Nah, I'll go on my own," offered Ron, "let you know when I close it. How'd you close it anyway?" Frisk told him about a switch in the corridor they discovered during one of their resets. "Right, then. Won't be long."

He walked a few steps, then stopped and turned around.

"Erm, Asriel. Good luck, mate. Hope it works out for you."

His wish of hope was a signal that he very much expected it not to work out.

"Thanks, Ron." Asriel flashed a smile at him.

Ron studied the scene for a long moment, then forced himself to turn back and head into the Ruins.

"I guess we just wait then," said Harry. He could not keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"Asriel..." Frisk was holding his hands. "Are you sure? You know what you're facing if you do this."

Asriel shrugged and even managed another small smile. "I did it once before. Old habits die hard."

"Yeah," Frisk smiled too, but tears were forming, "I should stop coming down here."

"Yeah, don't you have anything better-"

The smile vanished. "Don't. Please. I've heard that line too often."

"Sorry."

Frisk suddenly let go and turned around. "Harry, Hermione, please! There has to be something we can do!"

They were silent. Hermione had tears of her own. Harry forced himself to watch the two of them. Bearing witness to what would happen next felt like the smallest of penance for what wizards had done to this family, to all monsters.

"Frisk… really, this has been all a dream. A very long one. It had lots of good parts. It's the best dream I've had in a long time. But I… have to wake up now. And so do you. But don't forget it. Don't forget me. Remember how it makes you feel. Remember that feeling for me."

Asriel was starting to cry now. It was too much. Frisk launched their arms around him, and he reciprocated in kind.

"I'm not letting go. N-not until the last possible minute."

"Th-thank you..."

"Mom and Dad will always love you. No matter w-what."

"I k-know..." Both of them held tight, weeping silently.

_I'm sorry..._

"It's okay," whispered Asriel, even though in his grief he didn't notice who he was responding to.

The two of them kept their promise. For maybe half an hour they held tight in silence. Hermione couldn't bear to look at them, and had summoned a small piece of parchment with a list of incantations and wand movements. She was studying the final one on the list, written in red ink and labelled 'LAST RESORT'. Harry continued his vigil, wondering whether each moment of silence from Ron was a blessing or a curse.

Finally, Harry noticed a flickering light coming from the ruins. A silver streak bolted from the doorway, and halted before them, turning into a small terrier dog. Then it opened its mouth, and Ron's voice came out.

" _All clear. Took my time to check nobody else was here. Heading back now. In your own time. Good luck._ " The dog then dissolved.

"Frisk..." said Harry, "it's time."

"Not yet. Just a little lo-"

Asriel had untangled his arms and gently pushed Frisk back. Utterly defeated, Frisk walked over to Harry and held his hand. He guided them towards the doorway, in case something went wrong. Hermione and Asriel now stood between the locket. She was still weeping, but her wand was steady.

"Ready?"

"No. But do it anyway."

She took a deep breath. " _Ignis-_ "

_Click._

The locket opened spontaneously. A high, cold voice emerged from it.

" _I have seen your heart, and it is mine._ "

All four of them looked on in shock.

" _This is not what you wish, Asriel Dreemurr. You desire nothing more than to return home to your mother and father. To play with your friends. You seek peace from the guilt of your crimes that you can never find elsewhere. I can offer you this, I ask only a favour._ "

"Don't listen to him," said Frisk, "he's tryng to talk his way out of this!"

" _You mourn the pain you and your sibling caused. You will do anything to avoid inflicting more pain. Your friends and family must be protected. I can help you. Only I can help you._ "

"Hermione, the spell!"

Before she could react, a shape blossomed from the locket. It swelled dramatically, until what Harry thought looked like Toriel floated above the locket. After a moment he realised it was a different monster. Their horns were longer, muzzle more pronounced, and there were black markings on their fur that matched their black eyes. Frisk gasped in shock.

" _This power can be yours again._ " The voice was deep and growling. " _The power you used to free all monsters. You couldn't keep it before, you had no right to hold on to those souls, but now you can have it without harming anyone. And with that power, monsters shall always be safe. Do not throw away the best opportunity to keep the barrier from ever returning._ "

"Asriel, don't-"

"Liar!" shouted Asriel. "You know what I tried to do with that power. Hermione, cast your spell!"

She had been waiting until he confirmed he was still ready, for casting without a ready recipient would be disastrous.

" _Ignis Delenda, Fornacem Diabolos ex Nihilo!_ "

A small burst of flame appeared on her wand. It was darker shades of oranges and reds than Ron's earlier attempt, and Harry and Frisk could feel its heat from where they stood. It flickered wildly, clearly attempting to break free from her control, but it suddenly detached like Ron's had, as Asriel guided it to his waiting hands, keeping it a tight ball of fire. But before he could bring it down, the large monster twisted in shape. It split in two, and the two parts shrank. Everyone watched as they took the form of a flower with a face, and a young human child in a green sweater with malevolent red eyes.

_That's… he's..._

" _Howdy!_ " said the flower. " _I knew you missed me. Betcha can't wait to get rooted back in here! He's being nice, you know, even now. He coulda just cut you off and you'd be me already, but he's nice like that. And you still can't feel your sins properly, can you? Just imagine them crawling on your back. But maybe you're tired of that. After all, you never had a problem thinking about it when you were me!_ "

" _Why are you getting so worked up about a few humans?_ " asked the child. " _So what if they die? They killed you, remember? That's all they do to things they don't understand. Didn't I teach you that? We tried it your way, and you died for it. And Dad just had to collect souls anyway. There's no getting around it, Asriel. In this world it's kill or be killed!_ "

_No, No!_

" _Hey,_ " asked Flowey, " _did I ever do that thing where I reveal who I really am to Mom, and then while she freaks out or hugs me that leaves her open for an attack? I can't remember, but it sounds hilarious! You should try that. Or maybe do it with Papyrus. Wish I'd thought of it earlier._ "

"No, no, no..."

" _You think your new sibling has the right idea? They're naïve. You can't hug violence out of someone. Some people will always want you dead, and the only way to stop them is to kill them first. That's what he'll do for you. You can bring the monsters under his protection, and he'll guarantee nobody ever seals you underground again! Humanity doesn't deserve the monsters. It's the only way to keep everyone safe!_ "

_Don't listen!_

"No!"

"Asriel, please!"

During this taunt, the fireball had grown slightly larger, and curls of flame licked menacingly in all directions. Screwing up his face in determination, the ball thinned out, forming a circle surrounding the locket and the two figures. This spurred another transformation as he raised his arms to deliver the final blow. The child and flower swelled larger and larger, until Asgore and Toriel floated before everyone, Toriel in the regalia of a proper queen, and Asgore clad in dark menacing armour. Both of them looked haughty and austere, completely absent the kindness and warmth they normally showed.

"M-mom? Dad?!"

" _By all means, my child, if this is so important to you, feel free to murder us. Once more should not affect your tally that much._ "

" _I had hoped we could teach you how to lead the monsters, son. It appears you don't want that burden any more. Well, that is your choice to make. I know I've had to make hard choices._ "

"I… I don't know..."

The ring of fire sent more dangerous looking jets of flame. Flames that looked like dragons and wolves and serpents. Hermione actually stepped back in fear. Frisk slipped from Harry's loosened grip and ran up to Asriel, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. It didn't matter where any of them stood right now. If Asriel dropped his concentration, they were likely all dead.

**But he refused.**

Bolstered by Frisk's own determination, he finally dropped his arms. The flames converged on the locket. Harry thought of the diary as he heard a thin piteous scream. And then the flames vanished.

The cave was still unnaturally warm. Frisk gripped Asriel's shoulder tight. He, Harry, and Hermione were staring down at the blackened mangled mess that had once been Slytherin's locket.

"Asriel?"

He turned round to face Frisk. "I can't feel him anymore." His voice was toneless.

Frisk launched into another hug. Asriel didn't respond. Harry suspected his ability to care was already dwindling, and from there… best not to think about it.

" _Accio locket._ "

At last, the summoning charm grabbed a Horcrux. The scorched mess zoomed into Harry's hand, as he resolved to take it far from where it caused so much pain. He took out his Moleskin pouch, opened it, and-

" _ **HARRY!**_ "

He looked up, distracted. Hermione was pointing at where the locket had rested. A heart was floating there. A dark, sickly red, and badly cracked. It had an outline of solid black. It was the soul fragment. How could that be? It should have died with the locket. Then it hit him: Aurelian's spell. It must bolster all weak souls, even fragments. But the spell had limits. The soul was beginning to shake violently, and the cracks were spreading, and-

"Unh! What-?"

Determined to cling to life, Voldemort's soul had found something to latch onto as it flew straight into Asriel's back.

"Asriel, what-?"

He had a look of terror as his eyes turned scarlet. "No, Frisk, stay back-"

Harry's scar burst in agony as a blinding flash of light filled the cave. He dropped the still open pouch and the locket and fell to his knees as he clutches his forehead in agony. It felt like this went on for minutes, and he hadn't noticed that some of the pouch's contents had spilled. And then the light stopped, and the pain lessened. He saw the pouch, the locket, the mirror shard and his mother's letter, and stupidly went about putting them back in his pouch before he heard it. A deep snarl of a voice, devoid of warmth despite how softly it spoke.

"This… power. It is incredible. I need more. I should have let the flower take me long before now. I have wasted months on restoring the present order when I could have pursued something greater. I shall not make this mistake again."

Harry looked up. Frisk was paralysed, beholding the figure standing where Asriel had been, who was experimentally flexing unnaturally long fingers ending in wicked claws. He was as tall as Asgore, but skeletally thin by comparison. What little fur appeared beyond the simple black robes he now wore was off colour and matted, like it had not been washed in years. As he lifted his head his horns and muzzle became clear, looking stunted and underdeveloped compared to his parents. After feeling the inhuman face for a moment he finally turned to look at Harry. His fangs were long and yellowing, accompanied by a mouth full teeth even sharper than Asgore's, and Harry's scar burned again as he looked into solid scarlet eyes with catlike pupils.

"Well played, Harry Potter. But you shall pay a high price for that!"


	12. The Man With Two Souls

"Who are you?" demanded Frisk. "What have you done with Asriel?!"

The monster broke off his gaze with Harry to face who was addressing him. Amusement played across his muzzle at the complete lack of fear this child was showing.

"Surely you realise who I must be. Do not pretend otherwise, foolish child," he replied softly. "As for your friend, I am making the most of his potential. His childish wishes would have squandered this opportunity."

He waved his arms. Ropes sprang from them and tied Frisk up, arms firmly entrenched by their sides. They were still standing and looking stubborn.

"It is your actions that have allowed me access to this opportunity. Breaking the barrier at the moment the sneakthief dropped me here, where I could make contact with one I can really use. Lord Voldemort is not without gratitude, Muggle. If you do not interfere, you may depart this place when I am finished. Consider this boon a final gift from your friend."

"He's my brother you son of a-"

Voldemort ignored them. He turned back to face Harry, just as Hermione had finished edging over to him.

"You have succeeded in what you sought to do, Potter. And I suppose I must thank you as well for going to that trouble. The Horcrux that protected me is no more. Any anchor to life I offer my true self is gone. As is any allegiance I may owe him. I am free to carve my own path. A better path."

To demonstrate this path, he began to float two feet off the ground.

"I am only part of a soul, but this body taps into my entire potential. If I met myself, I would be his equal in power. And I shall meet him! Splitting my soul was folly when a united soul could grant me enough power to fell a hundred wizards at once. And I no longer require strips of wood or words. Observe!"

"Leave them alone!" yelled Frisk. They had hopped over and tried to jump into him. This had the benefit of sending his aim awry. Harry reacted on instinct and pulled Hermione down, just as there was a jet of green light and a shower of rocks as the curse hit the wall of the cavern. Frisk lost their balance and fell to the ground.

"A poor decision," he snarled, turning back to Frisk. "I do not think your brother appreciates you throwing your life away like this." He raised his hand.

" _Stupefy!_ "

Harry's aim was true. The spell streaked towards Voldemort… and nudged him slightly. However his power manifested, it would take more than a stunning spell to best him. All it had done was get Harry his undivided attention.

"Thank you, Potter, for reminding me of my priorities. A stubborn Muggle child can wait until I have dealt with you."

"Deprimo!"

Hermione's spell hit the ceiling of the corridor, and more rocks cascaded down, blocking the flower bed and Frisk from sight, but those cold eyes still stared at them. Hermione grabbed Harry's hand, and pulled him into the Ruins.

"A futile effort."

Voldemort waved his hand. Most of the rocks became smoke, and blew away with a sudden wind. The chase was on. He did not move particularly fast. This was a game he was going to enjoy. Frisk shouted after him, unacknowledged.

"Asriel! ASRIEL! I know you're in there! You have to resist him!"

The robed figure vanished from sight. Even as they struggled against their bonds, fear and despair danced around the edges of Frisk's mind, that Asriel would be an accomplice to so much horror. But they shut those feelings out. Thinking of what Asriel would say if you told him that was his fate, how he'd fight it with all his heart… it filled them with determination.

And as it did, Frisk felt something. Something they hadn't felt in a year. It was hard to put into words, but if pressed, Frisk might have said it was like a button in their mind. It might take a little effort, but they could push it. They had pushed it many times.

Of course. Resets. They were truly linked to the Underground, weren't they? That's why they couldn't do it once they left. Was it all an unintended side effect of the spell on the mountain? That didn't matter, this gave them an option. Go back, all the way back. Free everyone one more time, see him one more time, and find that locket. Keep it safe until Harry and his friends turned up, and give it to them to get rid of it, telling them to do it far away from Ebott. It was simple, Flowey really was the lesser evil compared to-

_**No.** _

Frisk stopped struggling. There was no mistaking it this time. Someone had just spoken to them, and they knew it was to them.

"Who's there?!"

_Greetings. How nice to speak with you in the waking world at last._

They understood. "My dreams. You were warning me about Asriel."

_Yes. I did not anticipate the soul fragment surviving the destruction of the locket. But we can still make this right. You must act fast, before the opportunity is lost._

"Right, I'll reset and then-"

_I said no._

"But-"

_Listen. Resetting might solve one problem, but only one. It was pure luck the thief was in the cave above when Asriel broke the barrier. There is no guarantee you will cause it to happen at the same time. Then the thief leaves Ebott with the locket._

"Isn't that better? Then we don't get involved at all."

_He'll remember. He's already gone to great lengths to survive, splitting your soul is an extreme measure, and he's fed off Asriel's determination. The locket will manipulate the thief to return him to the Dark Lord, and tell him of this path to power. Monsters will never be safe. We have to make sure the locket remains destroyed. As for the current problem, I have the answer. We can save Asriel._

"From being possessed?"

_From the Dark Lord. From Flowey. Everything. I was going to suggest you talk to your friend Harry, but more pressing matters emerged._

Frisk allowed hope to renew their struggling against the ropes. It sounded impossible, but then they were already listening to a voice in their head, so they might as well keep going.

"I don't understand though, why can't Asriel resist?"

_That wizard is a master of dominating people. And Asriel has no soul, so the spell you learned about can't help him. It's not like with me. Frankly he would have won that struggle even without the spell, he hated hurting people that much._

"With you? Who..."

The adrenaline pumping through them had no effect on their mind as it all fell into place. Those flashes of memory in the Underground. Those brief feelings of pleasure they shut out from disgust. The story in New Home, the True Lab, Asriel's own account. Their inexplicably intense anger towards Harry and his friends. The dreams expressing a desire to atone...

"Of course. Chara."

_Yes. We shall be partners one more time. For him._

* * *

Despite having gone for the kill initially, Voldemort had shifted to toying with them. Their few spells had either missed or had no effect, and he was responding with jets of red or silver light, throwing rocks that hasty shield charms blocked, and punctuated with bolts of lightning coming or jets of flame. The real Voldemort had learned not to waste time when Harry was in his sights, but this one had yet to learn the lesson. Or perhaps it was the only form of resistance Asriel could put up.

"I shall reunite with myself," he was saying. "I shall recover my Horcruxes and bring them together. I shall then confront myself, and make him a part of me whether he likes it or not. And then I shall gather six souls of importance, and then no one alive can threaten me!"

" _Expulso!_ "

Hermione had tried something with a little more force, and finally it had an impact. Voldemort was blasted back into a wall. He rallied at once however, baring his fangs in anger.

"Do not think you are buying a swift end with such gestures, mudblood! I shall make your friends watch you die, and I shall be patient with you! I may even let you scream!"

They hadn't stuck around to hear this threat. They continued to run, past the fake spikes now. They rounded a corner and-

"Here, what's the hurry? Did Asriel destroy it? What happened to-"

"Ron, run!"

"Why, what's _that thing?!_ "

Without thinking, Ron shot a stunning spell which Voldemort swatted back with his bare hand, and it only missed because Harry shoved him out of the way. Voldemort appraised his new challenger for a moment.

"You spoke of your family to this child a lot, blood traitor. But noble stock must be preserved where possible. If you surrender now, I may consider sparing you the fate of your shameful family."

"Shove that offer up your-"

A bolt of pure energy knocked Ron off his feet.

"A pity. The shedding of pure blood is always a waste."

"Haven't got any of your own to shed, have you, Riddle?!" bellowed Harry, a mixture of fury and panic in his voice. "You were always a hypocrite. You think your real self's mates are going to listen to someone who isn't even human, let alone a half-blood?"

His given name halted his advance, but he did not turn to face his taunter. "They will listen to power," he said softly, "they always have. All ideals bend in the presence of power, especially once I have rejoined my soul." He resumed his glide towards Ron.

"Really?" Harry was desperate to let Ron get back on his feet. "You think you're the first Horcrux we've dealt with?"

That did the trick. He stopped, and then turned to face Harry. They met each other's gaze, as Ron scurried frantically to rejoin Hermione. Harry knew what he was doing as his scar prickled, but his hackles were too raised to attempt shutting him out.

"I see. My diary. My ancestor's ring. Even in death, Albus Dumbledore taunts me. No matter, my plans shall adjust. I merely require a seventh soul. And in restitution, I shall claim yours first!"

" _Expuls-_ "

Pain flooded Harry. He was yelling uncontrollably. His scar had burst open and spread its pain to his very bones and his skin was pierced and burned and ripped at the same time. The only thing he could make out beyond his own body was a twisted smile, full of sharp yellow teeth.

"It has been so long. I haven't been able to do this since I was separated from myself."

" _Stupefy!_ "

Voldemort had been taking such delight in torturing Harry he hadn't noticed the two raised wands. The two spells combined overcame his defences as they slammed into his chest, and he collapsed to the ground. He wasn't unconscious though, just staggered. As Hermione guided him clear of their horned enemy, Harry dizzily took a chance.

" _Sectum-_ "

"Harry, no! You might kill him!"

The aches and pains in his body had certainly wanted to, but his brain was in agreement with them. Allowing Voldemort access to any other souls would render him invincible, so he had to be stopped now. There was no time to argue however, for that snarling face took off into the air again, raining down fireballs that Ron's shield charm barely held off. And deeper they ran.

* * *

Not long after coming to the surface, Alphys had upgraded the extradimensional storage capabilities of the phones she built. There was now so much room, Frisk never had to empty it of the contents they had accrued when they travelled through the Underground. This procrastination paid off, as they had been reminded of the dagger they had picked up in Asgore's house. It was lucky their hand was right next to the pocket that had the phone. So now they were clumsily trying to fray the ropes that bound them. And to keep panic at bay, they were having a conversation with the last permanent resident of the Underground.

"So you were with me the whole time?"

_In a matter of speaking. Though when I first woke up, I was confused. My plan had failed, hadn't it? It took sustenance of a sort to clear my head._

"Let me guess. My determination?"

_Yes. Your determination to survive._

Ice dropped into their stomach. "So my first run. When I killed some of them?"

_It excited me, I won't deny. I thought I had an ally. Someone I could wreak my revenge through._

"It wasn't like that! The froggit scared me! I was trying to prove my strength to Mom like she wanted! Undyne wouldn't listen to anything I said, I couldn't think of anything else until after she already...!"

_Yes, it was apparent by the time you reached the barrier that you had only acted in self defence. But still, when you reset, I thought I could encourage you to see things my way. I was wrong._

"What Sans told me… I wanted to be a better person. So when I felt that urge. When I felt you, I shut it down."

_Yes. You ARE a better person. Better than I am anyway. You proved that again and again. Those deaths haunt you even now, in a way I would never feel. I was silenced by your determination._

There was a snapping noise. Ropes uncoiled from where they had been cutting. With a little more struggling, the rest fell away. Frisk allowed themselves a moment to rub their wrists.

"Okay, what now?"

_That pile of rocks. You need to clear it. Hurry!_

"What's there?"

_Your friend, Harry. He left it behind. He doesn't even know its potential._

Frisk wasn't sure if they completely trusted them just yet. They were being guided along a path with only a few steps lit up in front of them, and it could still lead them off a cliff. But if what they said was true, Frisk would be useless in a fight. This was the only path. Thinking of that hug they had shared with Asriel, they set to work.

* * *

The hunt had progressed to one of the larger areas of the Ruins. The three of them had emerged here first, and each had chosen a different direction to run. As Voldemort emerged, this meant he had to choose his target, namely Ron, allowing Harry and Hermione to stop and try and coordinate another combined spell as Ron dodged a streak of purple flame. They hadn't quite managed it, and the two sequential stunning spells only succeeded in diverting his attention once again.

"Dumbledore himself could not best me! What are three children capable of doing?"

" _Incarcerous!_ "

Unlike earlier that day, Ron's aim was spot on. Ropes erupted from his wand and bound Voldemort tightly. The effect was supremely limited however, as a moment later the ropes burst into flames and fell away. He continued to advance on Hermione, so Ron tried a different tactic.

" _Diffindo!_ "

Ron's spell slashed the back of his robes, revealing more of that sickly matted fur. He growled more in annoyance than pain, and stopped advancing. Ron wasn't about to let him turn around.

" _Expulso!_ "

From the angle Ron took, this time the spell slammed Voldemort into the ceiling, dislodging some ancient tiles and rocks from the ceiling. This gave Harry an idea.

" _Deprimo!_ "

Copying Hermione's earlier spell, but aiming right above their hunter. It had the desired effect. Another small cave-in happened, and before Voldemort could react he was buried in rocks.

"Keep moving, it won't hold him long!" They regrouped and ran again.

"What are we gonna do," bellowed Ron, "we can't keep running!"

"There has to be a way to reach Asriel!" lamented Hermione. "We can't have him caught up in a fight between wizards like this!"

"We don't have time to figure it out." It pained Harry to say it, but it wasn't in his voice. "If he gets past us, or takes one of our souls, we're all dead. And not just us three, everyone back home will be too. We have to fight him now!"

"But Harry-"

"I know! But what else is there?!"

As they left the corridor they saw the dead tree, and beyond the small house that hid the entrance to the Ruins.

"Okay, here's the plan. Get clear of the entrance. The second he comes through, we all stun him at once. And then..."

He couldn't bring himself to finish the plan. But Hermione and Ron got the gist and nodded. Ron looked even more pained than Hermione did. As they took position, they heard a distant crashing sound. Voldemort must have broken free of his stony tomb, but however the Ruins were shaped, it sounded like it had come from elsewhere. The three of them had their wands raised, ready to strike.

And that was when a solid slab of granite was sliced out of the wall, and swept a path that crashed into all three. Ron and Hermione were knocked to the floor, while Harry careened into the wall, right arm first. There was a sickening crunching sensation and a burning pain as he dully registered that his upper arm was broken. It complemented the pain he had realised was burning in his forehead, and he immediately knew his mistake.

"Stupid boy," came the triumphant growl, "to think your pitiful ambush could succeed against Lord Voldemort. He always knows."

As he floated into the yard, three strips of wood flew into his hand. He had seized their wands. And then proceeded to discard them like the twigs they felt like. Ron and Hermione started to crawl towards him. There was a flash of light, and they were both hauled into the air by their ankles. He turned to face Harry.

"Your friends have a great honour. They shall watch me truly exceed what wizards can do. But they shall not join you as a part of me, Potter. I have no use for those who turn their backs on their heritage, or have no heritage to speak of."

Harry found himself levitating towards him, and the menacing claws found purchase on his jacket.

"But of course, you have the greatest honour, as it is you who shall join me. And… ahhhhh..." He considered Harry. "And you shall return what is rightfully mine as well."

Harry was in too much pain to register these words. But it didn't matter, as he began to feel something in his chest move, trying to leave him. Is this what the victims of the dementors suffered? It was all he could think of to distract from the pain in his arm, the agony on his forehead and what was beginning to feel like a heart attack-

And then there was an almighty bang. The razor sharp teeth and scarlet eyes were gone. Harry fell to the ground, and braced as it looked like he would land on his broken arm, but instead an invisible cushion softened the impact. Looking around, it had been Voldemort's turn to be flung clear by a spell. Ron and Hermione had also fallen, but it their landing had been considerably rougher than his. Before he could ask himself who did this, a loud croak answered him.

"You shall not harm Kreacher's Master!"

The door to the house was open, and sure enough Kreacher was there, the fake Horcrux bouncing on his chest as he marched into the yard. Voldemort had recovered, looking down at the tiny figure with incredulity.

"This is a wizard's quarrel, elf," he spat with contempt, "you have no business interfering."

"Any quarrel with Kreacher's Master is Kreacher's quarrel. You is not hurting him any more!"

The furry nostrils flared. "Your loyalty is admirable, elf. Die discharging your duty, then." He extended a long clawed finger. Harry could almost sense the curse building, and he had no means of distracting him-

A spear crashed into Voldemort's arm, ripping his robes more and knocking him askew. He growled in pain.

"HEY! What the hell d'ya think you're doing, punk?!"

As it transpired, Kreacher had not come alone. Harry looked behind him to the fresh arrivals. Asgore was wearing full armour, flanked by Papyrus and Undyne. With a flash, another spear materialised into Undyne's hand.

"Kreacher informed the King as Master requested, and then Kreacher accompanied them so Master would know." His enormous eyes shone with pride.

"Good… good work, Kreacher."

Asgore hadn't heard a word of this conversation. He lumbered past Kreacher, his comrades following behind as he regarded the robed figure looking down on the scene with begrudging interest.

"Son?"

* * *

_Keep going. It's here, I know it._

With a grunt, Frisk moved another rock clear from the pile. They still didn't know what they were looking for, but they'd been told they'd know it when they'd see it. Putting the rock down by the flowers, they stretched their back and wiped the sweat from their brow.

_Don't stop! If he leaves the Underground it's too late!_

Slightly irked, but understanding they were right about the time pressures, Frisk returned to the pile and continued their work.

"Hey, I have to ask. How are you so sure about what to do?"

_The course of my life, and my death, has been rather... unique. When Asriel took my soul, I was bathed in its magic. Something of that magic lingered within me even after he died and we separated. And then all the time we spent together. Even though I had no influence over you, your determination strengthened me regardless. All that magic and determination has given me a lot of insight over both, even if I have no ability to influence it._

"Okay, I guess that makes sense. But why only talk to me now?"

_Before, I wasn't strong enough. Time and space matter with my current situation. I tried to reach Asriel when he first took the locket, but the soul shut me out. Once you left the Underground it became much harder to reach you. That's why I could only speak to you in dreams, and only my emotions could reach your waking thoughts. But that meant my anger at wizards._

A sliver of that anger pulsed through Frisk, and they threw the rock they were carrying to the floor to express it. Weakened from the cave-in, it split down the middle.

"You said you wanted revenge. Against who?"

_Isn't it obvious? My plan failed. He stopped me._

"You knew Flowey was Asriel all along?"

_There was no reply. ___

"You didn't. Not that first time, anyway. Come on, who did you want revenge on?"

_...The world. The humans, as he's already told you. The monsters for being too pathetic to try and defend themselves. And for a while after we found out, yes, against Asriel personally._

"Then why are you helping me save him? Wait, are you even helping me?"

_**I am.** _

The force of those words silenced Frisk's doubts. They couldn't ignore the overwhelming sincerity behind them.

_I understand your mistrust. But believe me, I really do want to make up for what I did to monsters. I'm determined to._

Frisk threw a series of smaller rocks clear of a larger one to get a grip on it. "Was it me? Was it seeing me that made you change your mind?"

_Of course. There are only so many times I can experience your genuine affection for all of them before I start to share it. And actually develop remorse. It started early. When you went to see him the first time._

"Him. Asriel? After the barrier?"

_Yes. You gave him more thought in ten minutes than I did in a year. I liked having a warm bed and good food and people who were pleased to see me, but I never let go. I ultimately saw all of them as tools I could use to express my pain. I never understood them. I would never have planned what I planned if I did. Of course he'd have resisted. It's so obvious now. I shouldn't have involved them in my own issues. If I do this for him, then maybe..._

"They still care for you, you know. Even Asriel. I mean, he thinks he sees you how you truly are-"

_He is correct._

"-but that doesn't mean you don't have your good points. He had to like something about you. So maybe we can figure out a way for you to talk to them?"

_That is a bad idea._

"Why? You've changed, right? You don't hate so much any more?"

In response, a much stronger pulse of fury coursed through Frisk's body. It was clear enough that Frisk could make the connection to what triggered it.

"...I get it. It's not just wizards you're angry at. It's only monsters you've learned to stop hating."

_I regret involving them in my plan. But if I had the means to do it myself? Yes, I would still do it, even today. So don't get any ideas. Even if you discovered a way, we would inevitably come to blows. You seek peace, but it is impossible in the long run._

"But we've come a long way in a year already!."

_And the wizards? You may have encountered some decent ones, but do you think the rest of them will be like that? Just because you accused the wrong people of sealing the monsters, the monsters were still sealed by wizards. And look at what one is doing to Asriel right now. How can you be certain that those three are not merely an exception, much like you are?_

"I can't live my life assuming that. The monsters can't. Surely you understand this now."

_...perhaps. But even if the wizards leave you be, do you think the rest of humanity will accept them long term? Humans don't need magic to be cruel. You of all people should know this._

Memories Frisk had not thought of for a long time came unbidden. They trembled a little and gasped as old aches throbbed. It was a frank exchange of views, as they proceeded to get a brief overview of very similar memories.

_We were so similar in origins. I'll never understand how what those people did to you doesn't fester at your core._

Frisk shrugged. "I got a mom that bakes really good pies and a dad that wants to listen to me. And then I got a brother. Why get worked up about what happened before?"

_And if troubles emerge? If they are hurt? Killed? When you could have stopped it?_

"...I’ll deal with it then."

_You will fail._

"No. I refuse."

For a moment, Frisk froze. Nothing showed on their face.

_...this is a waste of time. You won't convince me._

"And you won't convince me."

_Yes. It doesn't matter anyway, I have no influence beyond my words. It's your call in the end. Keep moving the rocks. Remember the reason for our alliance._

Frisk resumed their work with renewed zeal.

_You all deserve each other. It's almost sickening._

"You should try it."

_I did try it. And I messed up. Terribly. I had my chance already, and I threw it away. All I can do is help Asriel's second chance succeed. Giving me a second chance is the worst thing you could do for him. You're nearly there._

* * *

Asgore continued to look at the floating figure, pain settling softly across his face. "Asriel...?"

"That name is immaterial to me, King of Monsters." His muzzle was full of rage, but his speech was calm. "You should not have come here."

"Son, please..." It was soft, and it was desperate.

"He is beyond your reach. He has no say in my designs. But if his absence pains you so much, I offer an invitation. This body can still take the souls of monsters. Become part of me like you did once before. Lend me your skills, and you may spend eternity with him. All who do not resist me and desire this may do so."

"PRINCE," called Papyrus, "I DON'T BELIEVE YOU WANT YOUR FATHER TO ACCEPT THAT INVITATION!"

The red eyes met the blank sockets. The rage cooled into contempt. "I have a different offer for you, skeleton. Even when I have recalled my Death Eaters, I shall need some monster representatives. I offer you the position of herald. You may speak in my name. I promise that no monster who submits shall be harmed, and you shall serve me as I rule both Monster and Wizard. If you desire, you may even call yourself 'Captain of the Royal Guard'."

Undyne shot Papyrus a look of disbelief and annoyance.

"THAT… IS ACTUALLY TEMPTING, WIZARD-WHO-IS-POSSESSING-ASRIEL. I WOULDN'T WANT TO SEE SANS GET HURT JUST BECAUSE HE'S SO LAZY."

Everyone looked on in shock. The contempt was twisting into desire and triumph.

"So you swear fealty to Lord Voldemort?"

A gloved hand stroke his mandible. "I THINK… I THINK… I think that you..."

"Say it," came the impatient growl.

_PING._

Voldemort slammed to the ground.

"I THINK YOU'RE BLUE NOW! NYEH HEH HEH!!! YOU'VE BEEN JAPED BY THE GREAT PAP-" 

A bolt of lightning, giving off rainbow coloured sparks, slammed into Papyrus, who in turned slammed into the wall. Voldemort got to his feet, apparently unable to take flight. A small sickly orange flame appeared in his palm. The entire yard heated up almost instantly.

"Consider my offer rescinded. And thank the mudblood over there for how you shall die."

The flame left his hand, swelling rapidly and taking the shape of a dragon's head. But just as it looked like it could swallow the whole house, it began to shrink again. It steered away from Papyrus, into the large hands of Asgore, who took the Fiendfyre in its entirety and contracted it into a tiny sphere. With a small effort, the flames vanished.

"You… you shall release my son!" He roared, every bit as enraged as he had been at Toriel's house. With a red flash, the menacing trident reappeared.

"You shall die attempting to make me."

He raised his arm, but suddenly had to shift, sending the flash of green light rushing into the ceiling. Undyne had begun to rain down more spears at him. By the time he had cast a shield charm, Asgore had closed the distance, trying to trip him up. It was an impressive double maneuver, born of a decade of drilling and practice. Asgore disrupting his attempts to cast a spell by striking directly, Undyne shutting down any attempt he made to put some distance between them. It was apparent she had learned from her sparring match with Hermione, and discussed it with Asgore.

In the meantime, Ron and Hermione had picked up their wands. Unable to cast a spell in case it hit Asgore, they had instead headed over to where Harry still knelt. Kreacher had rejoined his master, and whatever magic he was casting it helped dull the pain. It was dulled further when Hermione conjured another splint.

"If Asgore is beaten, we stun him."

"And then do we…?"

Harry didn't want to answer in front of the monsters.

"Asriel, please!" cried Asgore as he launched a sweeping strike. "You must be able to resist this!"

Voldemort ignored him, except to continue dodging. "If you - intend to keep - fighting this way - then I shall have to - oblige."

In his hand, a large saber with an emerald-encrusted hilt appeared, and he immediately struck. Asgore hadn't expected it, and it slashed across his heavy armour as he attempted to dodge. The armour did its final duty however, and although the breastplate fell apart, the blue and orange flowery vest underneath was unharmed. Voldemort went on the attack now, striking with amazing speed considering the weight of his weapon. Asgore's trident was long enough however that defence was easy. There were deafening clangs and sparks as the two weapons clashed repeatedly, Asgore moving almost as fast as his possessed son.

"I grow tired of this. If you will not join-"

He gave a great overhead strike, and Harry was able to make out another dark orange flame covering the edge of the blade. Asgore blocked with the middle of his trident, but this time it broke in two, and promptly vanished. Before he could react, Voldemort raised his free hand and the King crumpled to the floor, howling in agony.

"You should have submitted."

A blue spear knocked his hand clear, and he growled in pain. It was Undyne's turn to close the gap. He tried to cast a spell, but a series of bones were cascading down. Papyrus had recovered, and was now taking the place of Undyne in the one-two punch strategy.

"Kid, I know you weren't ready to spar yet, but that doesn't matter! I'll kick your ass if it stops you doing something you'll regret!"

"You are speaking to the wrong person. I shall not regret this!"

Undyne was faster than Asgore, but her strikes weren't quite as strong. She could meet each slash from the saber easy enough, but the force behind each swing along threatened to disarm her. In seeing her difficulty, Papyrus had abandoned the long range and was moving in, an avalanche of bones raining down. It was all Voldemort could do to block them with a shield charm. Papyrus then conjured an extra long bone and wielded it like a sword as he-

"Enough!"

The green light crackled in his hand now aimed directly at Papyrus. Intuiting that the spell would kill, Undyne abandoned her attack, instead leaping to one side to push Papyrus clear of the spell. They landed in a crumpled heap, and before either could move, rocks sprouted from the floor, anchoring their arms and legs in place.

" **NGAHHH!!! LET ME GO!** "

"See how your compassion has defeated you. Had you let your comrade perish, you may have bested me. You monsters don't deserve the power you can so easily attain. You're all weak."

Convinced they were no threat, he returned his attention to Asgore, who was struggling to get to his feet after the Cruciatus Curse. The three wizards raised their wands-

A wall of flame sprang between the two, much brighter than Voldemort's earlier Fiendfyre. Everybody looked around for the source. The doorway of the house was occupied once again, copper-red eyes surveying the robed figure with fury.

"Not my son, you-!"

* * *

After getting the truth, Frisk had worked in silence for a while. It seemed like there was nothing to say. This was an alliance of convenience. After the dozenth large rock the panic threatened to return, so they opted to break the silence.

"I hope the others are okay."

Their hope was rewarded. Throwing another smaller rock aside, there was a glint of gold.

_There. That's it!_

Frisk picked up the tiny ball. "The… what's it called, the snitch? How will that help?"

_It's not the snitch itself. There's something inside that can do something incredible. Harry doesn't know about it. He's not supposed to yet._

"How do I get at it?"

_You don't have to. Didn't Hermione tell you that determination can tap into magic? She was right. Remember where you are, where determination can do incredible things._

"So what do I do?"

_Concentrate on it. With all your heart. And then focus on him._

Frisk felt like refusal would have dire consequences. "Okay..."

Clutching the snitch tightly in their hands, they concentrated. It was hard, as they didn't know what they were concentrating on. But their confidence had grown after the conversation, and they weren't going to give up now. They closed their eyes so that they wouldn't be distracted. Eventually, they could feel a connection. The snitch began to tremble, and then shake. Whatever was inside was rattling quite fiercely. They could feel it, eager to respond.

_Now, focus. Call to him!_

Frisk allowed the time spent with him in woods and lakes and beneath the stars to come to the front of their mind. Of late night kitchen raids and sharing smuggled pie with their father. Of sitting in the park just marvelling at the wintry sun. Of talks of plans for the future. And of standing before the shimmering barrier, watching him apologise for the first time in a century and giving him their name.

The love they felt for him. The hope they had that this would work. The compassion that had made their guide willing to help. The determination to save him one more time. They called out...

_And somebody came._

They registered a touch, a very light touch, on their shoulder, bringing with it an accompanying reassuring feeling. They opened their eyes and turned to where the feeling was. A white hand was resting there, at the end of a green and yellow striped arm. But it wasn't solid. They could make out their own jacket through it.

They turned around slowly, beholding the translucent figure's green eyes and broad smile.

" _Howdy!_ "

* * *

What Toriel was about to call Voldemort, nobody learned. For some reason Harry couldn't see. Voldemort clutched his chest as though in pain, and Toriel did not hesitate to act on this opening. She charged him down and seized his wrists. Before she could grip properly however, he broke free and staggered backwards, a few warning jets of flame keeping her at bay.

"No!" she cried, as Asgore had finally recovered and summoned his trident. "Get back! He is mine!"

Another jet of Fiendfyre shot from his hand, but it stopped halfway towards her, even though she hadn't gestured at all. Voldemort had a look of concentration, trying to force it farther, but it instead vanished in a puff of smoke. Then came Toriel's response, a much brighter jet of flame that slammed into him, pushing him back a little.

"You can burn hotter than that! You are just as weak as the rest of your kind. At least those humans resolved to kill me rather than lose!"

The taunt was ignored. "You shall do no murder in this place, wizard!"

A firey rope sprang from her hands, wrapping itself around her opponent's chest and arms without scorching. But a second later, it released him, and instead whipped back at her, which she dodged. Slipping under the flames, she closed the gap. He was forced to swat her hands clear as once again she tried to grapple him. He was too nimble for her. More rocks were carved from the rocks and streaked towards her. Fists covered in flames, she punched each one before they could make contact, shattering into pebbles.

She was not so distracted by this assault that she didn't notice him slashing the air with his hand. She dodged, but not completely. The sleeve of her robes ripped and she clutched her arm, grunting in pain. Raising a hand at her, it looked like Voldemort was ready to cast another killing curse. But it wouldn't come. The hand trembled slightly.

"Impudent-"

As punishment for this first modicum of resistance, he growled in fury as he scratched the offending arm with his own claws. As he did, fireballs rained down and he was forced to block. After a moment he redirected back at her, and she responded by extinguishing them. A sickly blue burst of light erupted from the damaged hand, and the flames Toriel conjured to block shattered on impact, nearly knocking her over.

"You had better have a few more tricks than fire if you wish to best me!"

To taunt her with her own limited repertoire, he sent another jet of flame after her. The taunt was woefully inaccurate, as instead of merely redirecting it, Toriel now sent a bitterly cold wind with shards of ice. They punched through and extinguished the flame, and then tore Voldemort's robes as he dodged them. Then bolts of lightning came from the roof, forcing him closer to her. And to cap it off, she sent a jet of red light of her own, though this stunning spell was just as effective as Harry's had been. For a third time she lunged to try and grab his arms, and narrowly missed.

"Are those enough tricks? You may be skilled, wizard, but you still have merely a human lifetime's experience in magic. I learned some human spells long ago, before we were sealed. Do you think I have never improved my own magic? You think I never fought in the war? You think I spent five hundred years baking pie?"

As her elemental attacks forced him ever closer, Voldemort suddenly turned on the spot. But nothing happened.

"I cannot disapparate-?"

This was his last mistake. Finally Toriel seized his wrists, pulling his arms behind his back. And before he could react, he shimmered blue and fell to his knees. Undyne had broken her shackles using another spear, and had just freed Papyrus. With a deft movement, Toriel pulled his arms tight, resting her paw on the small of his back.

"And do you think I do not know of a hold that keeps you from using magic? I practiced this with Asgore long ago. Thank you for your help, Papyrus!"

"IT WAS A PLEASURE, YOUR MAJESTY!"

With Voldemort neutralised, the other other people in the yard converged on the struggling monsters. Toriel's face was still furious, but her eyes softened.

"Asriel, please listen. We are here for you. You must resist."

"If that is your strategy, you have already lost," taunted Voldemort. "He cannot do anything, and you cannot hold me forever. The only path to victory is to kill me."

At these words, Asgore turned to Harry, Ron and Hermione and glared at them. The fire in his eyes was the same in Asriel's bedroom. It was clear he would not permit them to try.

"Why stop me from killing the sentimental old goat anyway? Is it not justice? He has murdered six children you came to care for, and tried for a seventh, all the while delaying the day of liberty for your kind. Is he not a pathetic whelp?"

Toriel's grip trembled a little. "How do-?"

"Your son was watching when you said those words. Of course you wouldn't recognise him then. I daresay you don't recognise him anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"Toriel, don't listen," called Ron, "he's trying to talk his way out of this!"

"A moving story," said Voldemort, a cruel smile playing on his muzzle, "trapped as a soulless flower without feelings, playing childish games with time rather than doing anything worthwhile, until a human shows him the error of his ways. Did you not think? When all can be set right and he cannot feel sorrow, did it not occur to you what he must have done?"

"He… he told us what he did," said Asgore unsteadily, "when he came back to us…"

"He told you all I let him feel guilt for. He has done a hundredfold more, and little of it good."

Toriel shoved her paw deeper into his back. He grunted in pain.

"You… you broke your husband's favourite teacup, and blamed a dog!"

Her eyes widened. The glance she and Asgore exchanged confirmed the truth of his words. "I… I never told anyone..."

"You told your son, once. Not that you remember. But he does. It was after he decided to surprise you by delivering his dust to you as a present. You didn't like that!"

"Hey buddy," spat Undyne, "shut your mouth! You think a horror story's gonna make us let you go?"

"Hardly. Although did you know that your lover has a birthmark in the shape of an egg on the underside of her tail?" Undyne's eye widened now. "Oh yes. He was furious at her one day, as it was her irresponsible experiments that left him in such a pitiful state. So he made you watch her die. He learned that little fact as he tore her coat apart."

"Don't listen," shouted Harry, "it's a trick!"

"This is no trick, Potter. I speak the truth, and you know it! How does it feel, to have discovered this place mere weeks ago, and yet you come to learn more of their son then they ever knew? The child they knew died that day he went to the surface, They now pour their squandered love into a twisted shadow, a pale copy-"

"Enough!" bellowed Asgore. Harry didn’t miss the badly suppressed desperation in it.

"Of course you would be willing to look past his crimes, murderer. Would it change, perhaps, if you knew he faked her voice to taunt you, before bequeathing her dust to you? He wasn't very original with his idea of fun. I can go on, of course. So many times he simply massacred a town. He could be clever, tricking your kind into falling or drowning rather than doing the deed himself. Sometimes he would explain who he really was before striking just for the fun of it. Especially with his mother and father. It amused him how you would struggle to reconcile your memories of him with the butcher before you. His victims exceed those of my true self many times over. And you don't even know how your first human child really died-"

"You are lying!" pleaded Toriel. Tears streaked down her face. The four monsters were listening in silence. The off-white muzzle was twisted in savage pleasure at the taunts.

"Poor Toriel Dreemurr,” he said softly, “It took nine children to find one who wanted you and not be a killer. But you have such a child at last. So why should you care for your wayward firstborn? Why fret about what I do with him? It would take a long time for me to match his crimes. Why bother saving him?"

Toriel’s grip around his wrists was as solid as ever, but she never had less resolve on her face. Asgore was stricken, and even Undyne was awash in doubt. Nobody objected when Harry, Ron and Hermione raised their wands, not to attack, but to defend-

"BECAUSE I THINK YOU’RE WRONG!"

The spell of mere words Voldemort had been weaving was disrupted as everyone looked towards Papyrus. He walked round and knelt before the struggling prince, studying the scarlet eyes for a moment.

"...YOU ARE NOT LYING. AT LEAST, YOU BELIEVE HE DID THOSE THINGS, SO I MUST ASSUME HE DID. AND THOSE ACTS TROUBLE ME. IT SOUNDS LIKE HE WAS A FREAKING WEIRDO! BUT KNOW THIS, WIZARD! EVEN THE WORST PERSON CAN CHANGE. EVERYONE CAN BE A BETTER PERSON, IF THEY JUST TRY! I DON'T THINK YOU'VE BEEN PRETENDING TO BE ASRIEL. HE IS HIS OWN PERSON. I'VE WATCHED HIM AND FRISK PLAY, AND HE HASN’T HURT ANYONE IN ALL THAT TIME. I BELIEVE HE DOESN'T WANT TO DO THOSE THINGS ANYMORE, AND THAT'S GOOD ENOUGH FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS!"

The optimism was infectious. Undyne at least was completely cured, flashing a razor sharp grin at Papyrus' conclusion. The King and Queen still had some doubt, but the sheer anguish on their face had been dispelled somewhat. The torture had ended at least.

"AND YOU CAN CHANGE TOO, WIZARD! LET US HELP YOU!" To this invitation, Voldemort growled in fury, baring those sharp teeth at the hand of friendship. "ALRIGHT, NOT RIGHT NOW, BUT THINK ABOUT WHAT I'VE SAID."

"Can… can one of you create some form of bindings to hold him? That should keep him from using his magic." Toriel looked down at her captive with fresh resolve. "I made a promise to love my son no matter what. Whatever he has done..."

Hermione waved her wand, and manacles appeared. Ron took them off her and approached the two struggling monsters. But Voldemort had one more card to play.

"Did you know your first human child wanted to slaughter everyone in their home village?"

He finally found purchase. Without thinking, Toriel covered her mouth in shock. Hermione's eyes flitted from her horror to Voldemort's triumph. " _Protego Totalum-!_ "

The spell surrounded Voldemort just as he acted, and it saved all their lives. There was a blast like a cannon, and Harry hurtled through the air, feeling the heat of flames as they roared. He landed on his other arm, which mercifully withstood the impact. But then he rolled over twice, which aggravated the broken arm painfully. A small lump landed on his chest. Inspecting it, he realised it was Kreacher, badly burnt, but still breathing. Looking around, the dead tree and its leaves were ablaze. Ron and Hermione looked alright, but both had lost their wands, making Harry realise he was missing his own. The four monsters had all slammed into walls. They weren't burnt at all, but they were all in bad shape, the spell had caught them unawares. The fifth monster carefully strolled up to his mother, who struggled to raise her head to meet that gaze.

"The best part is," he said cruelly, "I have not lied once." He raised his hand.

" _Oi!_ Leave her alone!"

Ron had not let the fact he was unarmed stop him. He charged down Voldemort, and his fist connected with the muzzle. It had little impact.

"Hmph. Typical Gryffindor."

There was a white blur, and Ron fell to the ground. Blood splattered the purple path to the house. Voldemort had slashed him with his wickedly sharp claws, before returning to Toriel.

"Now, to put you out of your misery."

"NO!"

"Tori!"

"Wait-"

" **ASRIEL!!!** "

The shout distracted everyone, when by all means it shouldn't have. Those who could move turned to see Frisk standing at the entrance to the yard

"Frisk, no!" cried Asgore. "Get back, he's too-"

Frisk ignored him, staring up at those scarlet eyes.

"You want to know why we should bother saving him?" Frisk had clearly overheard the conversation. "Because he freed us all! Whatever else happened before, when it mattered, he did what's right. You'll never do that. I'll help him make it up to them, let go of the past and find some peace if it's the last thing I do! Okay, go for him!"

"'Go for him'?" Voledmort was amused as he looked around at his vanquished foes, not one of them remotely capable of fighting back, before returning to the grey stare. "Oh, perhaps you do intend to fight me after all? You are brave for a Muggle, child. A fool, but you are br- Wait. Who is that?" Harry could not see who he was talking about. Frisk stood quite alone. "How could you be here? No, stay back!"

Voldemort fired off more flashes of green light. But not at Frisk, at the path between them, getting progressively closer towards him. Harry didn't know what to make of it, the pain in his arm was so distracting.

_Seen only by Frisk and his target, a pair of white fuzzy paws continued to run, unaffected by the killing curses. He bore down on his target and leapt up-_

"Unh!"

Voldemort clutched his chest for a long moment. But then he recovered.

"I do not know what you did, Muggle, or what you thought it would accomplish. But you have irked me for the last time."

He raised his hand-

"No!"

"My child!"

"Frisk!"

"PRINCE!"

The assorted shouts halted the building curse. Voldemort continued to stare at Frisk with rage and hatred, but his hand slowly began to tremble. The scarlet eyes were still furious, but the snarl melted into a grimace of resolve.

" _No..._ " he said softly, " _no! I won't let you!_ "

Frisk's look of determination was complemented by a glint of unmistakable hope in their eyes.

"Urgh!" Voldemort clutched his head. "What is..."

Asgore had gotten to his feet. "Asriel?"

It was as though the name caused physical pain. Voldemort began to scream.

"NO! You cannot best me! Your pitiful feelings shall not- _Frisk, I-_ "

And Harry understood. Whatever Frisk had done, it was allowing Asriel to resist, maybe even fight back. And however he was resisting, it was agony for Voldemort to remain. And Harry thought he knew exactly what was causing such pain.

" _If there is one thing Lord Voldemort cannot understand, it is love… It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good… in the end, it was your heart that saved you..._ "

And monsters are made of compassion, hope… and _love_.

"Harry?!"

He felt the stab of pain in his arm with each stride as he sprinted towards the struggling monster. Before anyone could react, he thrust his uninjured hand onto Voldemort's face. His scar burned like fire once again, and his vision was swimming, but this time he was ready, and began to concentrate like he was about to conjure the mightiest patronus as the memories began to swirl.

_Hagrid was smiling at him, holding a snowy white owl he'd bought... Professor Dumbledore was discussing an enchanted mirror with him… Dobby was flinging Lucius Malfoy off him… Lupin was gripping his shoulder firmly, assuring him he wasn't weak… His Quidditch teammates were squeezing the life out of him as he held the cup aloft… Sirius was listening patiently from an enchanted fire… His parents whispered instructions to him as he faced down Voldemort… Mrs Weasley hugged him like his own mother… Neville was stumbled down the steps, determined to help… He was accompanying Luna to Slughorn's Christmas party… Ron and Hermione were coming with him, no matter what he said… Ginny was leading him to her bedroom, ready to give him a birthday present..._

It was all he could do to concentrate on the memories of everyone he cared for. He screwed up his face to defy the pain of his forehead. He was filled with determination. He was vaguely aware of a figure standing next to him. Their smaller arm couldn't reach the face, but their hand rested on his chest. New memories swam across Harry's mind, as he realised that Frisk had understood what he was doing and come to help, their own bond with Asriel serving as a substitute.

_Toriel had slipped a pie into their room when she thought they were asleep… Shaking hands with Sans yielded quite the surprise… Papyrus was introducing them to Undyne, who in turn gave them a cooking lesson… Alphys was inspecting Mettaton's body and apologising… Asgore was trimming the human bush in his garden as iced tea cooled them down… they were hugging him before where the barrier had stood, refusing to let go..._

_And both of them, all three of them, were helping a wounded child get to their feet, briefly staring at the faint sunlight from above._

Harry's connection to Voldemort's shattered soul finally broke. Surprisingly he had stayed upright. Hoping he had done enough to encourage Asriel, he gripped Frisk's shoulder and ushered them back.

"You cannot best- _I won't let you-_ I am Lord- _Never again-_ **AAHHHHHHHHH!** "

Something began to glow on his chest. It was the sickly red heart with a black outline. But it seemed brighter than before. There were glimpses of white light. Harry realised it was a second heart, upside down, overlaid on the first. The red heart trembled slightly, but it was determined to hold onto Asriel. Exile meant oblivion.

"A monster soul!" cried Hermione, "He's got a soul of his own!"

Whatever struggle was going on in the being before them, it was now in a bitter stalemate. The red heart was still shuddering, but it looked rooted to the form it had possessed. With the benefits of Aurelian's spell, the white heart could now keep any more harm from coming to those around him. But despite whatever pain Voldemort's soul was experiencing, his determination to survive meant he could endure it.

“Asriel!”

“Son!”

“Don't give up, kid!”

“I BELIEVE IN YOU!”

At Hermione's declaration, the other monsters had forced themselves to their feet and cautiously approached him. This proved the decisive act. He looked around at them all, and gave out another great cry. But it was not a cry of physical agony. It was an anguished lament.

“ _Mom! Dad! I'm so sorry! There’s no excuse! I should never have-_ **ARRRRRRGH!!!** ”

These words upset the balance. The red heart shuddered more violently, and the black parts began to brighten, becoming as white as the outline of the other wizard souls. The cracks were sealing up, even as the purified magical parts of the soul seemed to flow into the white heart, bolstering it further.

"Of course," said Hermione softly, "it's his remorse..."

The body had lost all control, and had given way to shrieking and flailing. The red heart had been fully mended, but stripped of its magic appeared rather diminished, it shook harder than ever, even as it glowed much brighter than it had before.

" ** _I-_ AM-** "

Finally it was too much. The heart erupted from his chest, and everyone was bathed in its red light. Only for a second, for its ability to survive was spent. It suddenly split in two, then shattered into pieces that promptly vanished. Harry fancied he heard a scream echo in his own head.

In the complete silence that followed, everyone struggled to their feet. Harry and Frisk took a few steps towards the monster. He was clutching his head, but all movement had ceased. And then the top of the head began to dissolve. For a moment Harry felt a thrill of horror, because he remembered what a dying monster looked like. But as the body continued to collapse, a second one was revealed inside.

Harry appraised him as the others formed a circle around him. Asriel's white fur seemed to shine after his other form's matted look. He was wearing the clothes he had when he destroyed the locket, but he looked different. It took Harry a moment to realise why. Whether it was a side effect of the power he siphoned from the soul fragment, or whether his body was making up for lost time, he had grown a good six inches taller than he had been before. His wrists and ankles were clearly visible, and a belt of white fur now existed between his t-shirt and his trousers. Slowly, he opened his eyes. They were as green as they had ever been, but now they looked utterly exhausted. And perhaps something else, Harry couldn't make it out.

Frisk couldn't wait any longer. They launched forward again, and enveloped him in another hug, tears silently dampening his jacket. They'd gotten their wish, Asriel was taller than them by a few inches now. He gave a shuddering breath, and his eyes dully regarded the figure hugging him.

"Ch...Chara...? 'M s'ry..."

His eyes closed again, and he slumped forward onto Frisk's shoulder, his breathing soon steadying to the regular pace of sleep. Frisk only had to support him for a few seconds, as Asgore picked up his son and held him tightly to his blackened vest, his own tears flowing silently into his beard. Frisk wasn't left out for long, as Toriel scooped them up for a hug as well.

"We… we have a lot to discuss," she said to the room at large, providing cover for Asgore to continue to express his unrestrained relief, "but that can wait until we've rested up."

Hermione had started moving the moment Asriel fainted. Extracting a bottle of Dittany from her bag she threw it to Ron, who started applying it to the nasty gashes on his chest. Then she dashed into a corner of the yard, returning with the limp body of Kreacher. Frisk obediently slipped from their mother's grasp as she eyed the tiny figure.

"My goodness! It is fortunate the worst of these wounds were caused by magic." She clutched Kreacher tight, healing magic flowing unchecked.

Papyrus took out his phone. "I SHALL CONTACT MY BROTHER!"

"Thank you, Papyrus."

" _Lumos,_ " called Harry. A beam of light appeared near the burning tree, and he went to collect his wand. Ron and Hermione copied him, retrieving their own wands from other corners of the yard. In his short time in Toriel's care, Kreacher’s burns had mostly vanished, though he remained unconscious. He was about to ask how he was doing, when a large hand landed roughly on his shoulder, causing his arm to protest in pain. Asgore had shifted Asriel so he rested in one arm, and had the look of a man trying to collect himself.

"I… I'm not sure what you did," he said, eyes still overbright, "but he would never have thrown off that wizard's hold without your help. Thank you."

"I just… gave him a little nudge," said Harry, struggling to find the words, "he got the ball rolling all by himself.” Neither of them noticed the look on Frisk’s face. "Besides, he wouldn't have gone through all this if it weren't for wizards. It's like you said, we've put you lot through the wringer."

"Perhaps. But Frisk came to the Underground, and that led to our freedom. You have saved him from a terrible fate. You are both proof that humans and monsters have a future together. But that can wait. Hot chocolate and a good night's rest, that's what we all need."

Holding Kreacher now like Asgore held Asriel, Toriel lightly touched Harry’s splint, who felt the comforting healing magic soothe the dull ache. "Hmm, this injury is mundane, my ability to heal it is limited. We shall summon a specialist to help you tomorrow."

"Hey Hermione," said Ron, "did we pack any Skele-Grow? It's good for stuff like that."

"No, I didn't think. And I'm not comfortable with the spell to fix it. I'm sorry, Harry."

"'S alright."

"SKELE-GROW? WOULD SANS BECOME TALLER IF HE USED THAT?"

"Maybe," grinned Ron, “but it would hurt.”

"I SEE. OH! SPEAKING OF SANS…"

"'sup. pap said you found the kid, so i _goat_ here as fast as… " Sans’ puns faltered as he surveyed the battlefield and its participants, concluding with a perhaps-not-now look from Toriel. "woah. i missed a hell of a party. okay folks, follow me. i know a shortcut."

They trudged wearily after him into the house. Soon the yard was empty and silent, save the crackling flames of the burning tree. This didn't last for long. All of a sudden, the flames died out, leaving the tree none the worse all things considered. If anyone had walked into the yard at that moment, they would have felt such a palpable relief they may have wept, despite not knowing why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hallows, not Horcruxes


	13. The Dreamer Awakened

He was standing in a dark cavern. He recognised it from when a great shimmering barrier had once bisected it. At the far end was an entryway framed with the Delta Rune above it. A bright light was flooding in from it, a light he'd never been able to appreciate before. But before that was a small patch of grass, illuminated by a stray beam of sunlight from above.

And in that grass, a flower turned to face him.

"Howdy!"

He considered the flower a moment. "This is a dream, isn't it?"

Flowey rolled his eyes. "Bra-vo, kid."

Absently he inspected his hands, to make sure he still had them. "It's a strange one."

Leaves at Flowey's stem were twitching, looking almost like a shrug. "It's your dream. Guess that makes you the weird one."

"You know what I mean. In my dreams, either I'm me, or I'm you, or I'm me and turn into you, or the other way round. We've never met face to face before. So what does this mean?"

"Come on, you don't remember?"

He tried to remember what happened. "I was moving through the Ruins, but I felt trapped, like I couldn’t do anything, though a lot of people were calling to me. And suddenly I felt like I just woke up, and I was in two places at once. And then I saw myself run at me, while I was also running towards me. And there were a lot of memories. I don't think all of them were mine. And someone was shouting, and I was shouting, and a burden seemed to disappear. And then... I think I got hugged."

"Eh, close enough. How do you feel?"

Asriel raised an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't care about that stuff."

"It's called self interest, idiot. Now answer my question."

He took a long time to ponder the question. "I feel... like me. That in spite of everything, it's still me."

That last sentence did not feel like it came from him, but he found it comforting all the same. Flowey mock-exhaled in disappointment. "Yep. That'll be the soul."

"A soul? Whose soul?! I don't want-"

"Relax, Frisk didn't murder anybody. It's yours. For real. The one you were born with."

Somehow, he knew Flowey was right. "But how did they-"

"Hey, I'm just a figment of your imagination. Soul retrieval ain’t my department."

He placed a hand over his chest. He could feel it. Just like that night. Of all the emotions he could have felt, relief won out.

"So does this mean we're separate people now?"

Flowey laughed derisively. "Golly, wouldn’t that be nice? No luck, Asriel, of course we're still the same person! The only difference is you have something extra. It's actually a pretty special little extra. Can't say I'm not jealous."

"So what happens now?"

"Well, you could stay here and we could shoot the breeze. But I betcha that'd get old fast, since we already know everything about each other. You probably want the other thing. Go through that door there, and wake up."

He looked beyond Flowey. The light through the doorway was warm and inviting. He could make out silhouettes. But he didn't want to go just yet.

"Not budging? Wow, I didn't know you were so fond of little old me!" He stuck out his tongue in jest.

"It's not that," he trembled a little, "I'm afraid."

"Ohhhh. I get it. That locket sure kept me quiet for months. You were on quite the bender, and now you're gonna wake up with an enormous hangover."

"I'm not supposed to know what a bender or a hangover is!"

"And that's how you know I'm still a part of you. You can't unlearn what I learned."

He seized his ears and was twisting them.

"Hey, _hey!_ Asriel, listen up! Didn't you say it to Frisk earlier? You have to wake up. And it's not like it's all bad. I bet Mom has a pie just sitting there. And maybe you can have a proper shot at making it up to everybody."

"But I can't. You know I can't. Wait, why do you care?"

"As a figment of your imagination, I can't be relied on to be one hundred percent accurate to the real thing. I think really I'm just someone for you to talk to."

Asriel chuckled a little. And then slowly made his way to the doorway. The silhouettes were clearer, two large ones and a smaller one. He paused a moment, and turned back to Flowey.

"I... I guess this is goodbye."

"Goodbye?! Hah! You think because you can properly appreciate a hug again that I'm gone? Doesn't work that way, Prince. You were me for too long. You may want to be nice and stuff, but my habits are still there. I bet you hate that, but you gotta work with them."

"You mean I have to be you-"

He shook his stem in annoyance. "No, you idiot. It's like what Dad told you. I'm a part of you, and what I did- what _you_ did is a part of you too. You better not pretend it isn't there, there's no ignoring it. You can try and practice being sweet and kind if that's what you want, but if you ignore me, I'll come up when you least want me to."

Asriel pondered this. "Well thanks for the warning I guess. But why tell me?"

Flowey now looked emotionless. "Because you've made your choice. 'Don't kill and don't be killed', right?" Asriel nodded. "Well since I'm a part of you and also a figment of your imagination, I know it's what you want. I'm not gonna rain on your parade. Not intentionally anyway. Just don't forget me, okay?"

"...okay." He turned to the doorway.

"I have a question though."

He turned back. "What is it?"

"This hangover or big emotional whatever you're about to have. Think you can really cope with it?"

It was a fair question, given how last time it happened he hadn't been particularly successful. He looked down, and rested his hand on his chest.

"I don't know, honestly. I'm game for trying though. There's a couple of differences this time. First of all, I'm not alone."

"Yeah, yeah, Frisk and the power of friendship, big whoop. What's the other difference?"

"I'm not alone."

An eyebrow approached his upper petals. "Uhh, did you go on an actual bender while I wasn't looking?"

"Nah. Last time, I just had my feelings. Now I have my soul again. It’ll help me get through this. Or I'll help me get through this? I'm not sure how it works. But I am complete. Maybe that's enough"

Flowey whistled, being mock-impressed. "Golly, do you have no idea about the tangled mess of a life you've signed up for."

"Ha ha, yeah. I'm still scared. But if I’m really me now, and I’m staying that way, then I have to go home. I _want_ to go home. I broke Mom and Dad's hearts twice already. I can't do that again. I owe them that."

"Don't write checks you can't cash, kid. You might not feel that way when it comes down to it. Determination can only take you so far."

His expression drooped a little. "Yeah. And that's more Frisk's department. I'll fall back on love."

His tongue was out again, this time in disgust. "Ugh, don't remind me of that dreck Alphys watches."

"It's not that bad when you can care about the characters."

"Yeah, well, tall order for me. I think I've kept you long enough, in one way or another. Go enjoy life or whatever. Oh, and some of those memories you have may be of interest to your wizard pal. You might wanna discuss it with him."

"What memories?"

"You'll figure it out. Later!" And Flowey was gone.

He considered the doorway a while. He was still afraid. But the three silhouettes were telling him it would be okay. And two presences, one from within, one from without, reassured him that he could do this. So he walked into the warm light, and marvelled at the sun, closing his eyes to bask in the warmth...

The dream ended. The warmth was replaced with soft blankets. There was a faint smell of pie.

* * *

Asriel opened his eyes, blinked a few times, and allowed his senses to assess the situation before moving. He was lying on a bed. Judging by the starry poster on the wall to his left, it was his own bed in his mom's house. The room was bright, so it was daytime. Toriel must have been in the house, because that whiff of butterscotch and cinnamon was unique to her. He could also sense someone was in the room with him. His body also felt... solid. Comparing to how he felt the last few days, there was no comparison. His body was content in what it was supposed to be. He felt like himself.

Finally deciding to tip his hand, he slowly and quietly sat up. He felt constricted somehow. Looking down, he realised he was wearing a set of Frisk's pyjamas, but they were now too small for him. This helped make sense of the sensation of his tail feeling constrained. That could be dealt with later. He looked to his right and saw Hermione, sitting on a chair and reading what looked like a really old book with runes on the cover.

"Um, h-howdy."

Her head jerked at him in surprise. "Oh, Asriel!" She stood up and was about to head to the door.

"Wait. Don't call them yet, please. Give me a minute."

"Oh, sorry."

She returned to her chair. Asriel took a deep breath, getting a good dose of the pie's smell. At this moment, breathing felt good. His arms and legs had a dull leaden feel to them, like he hadn't used them for a while.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Well, you helped us destroy the locket last night, and after everything else that happened... well it's about four o'clock in the afternoon right now."

"Golly," he said flatly, "it took a lot out of me." Then had a stab of worry seized him. "Is everyone okay?! Did I- Did he-?"

"We're fine. Harry's arm may take a few more days to set right, and Kreacher may need to rest even longer, but monster healing magic is taking care of both of them. Everyone else is no worse for the wear."

"Oh," he sighed in relief, "I'm glad to hear that. Wait, who’s Kreacher?"

"Oh, I forgot you hadn’t met him.” They exchanged small smiles of amusement. “Let me show you something." She picked up an orange box with a screen on it. "Doctor Alphys came round this morning. I think your mum ordered her to on pain of death, she was scared stiff. Hold still a second."

He obeyed. She held the scanner over his chest for a moment. There was a beeping noise, and her face split into a smile.

"I already saw this earlier, but I thought you'd like to."

She had turned it around. A white, upside-down heart was glowing on the screen.

"You have a soul now. A soul of your own! We're still not sure how it happened. Frisk suggested you were so long as, well, yourself, that it gave your the love, hope and compassion to generate a new one, and that's what helped you resist You-Know-Who."

From his own confused recollection of what happened, Asriel was pretty sure that wasn't right. He also suspected Frisk knew more than they were letting on, but he trusted them to be doing it for a reason. Instead he let his genuine wonder shine through that he and his soul were reunited.

"Now Asriel," Hermione was saying, "nobody blames you for what he did. Older and wiser people have been hoodwinked by him. Ron's sister was possessed by him once."

"I don’t know about older. But yeah, you’re right. I know it’s not my fault, I know who did what. I’ve had a long time to think about it, and we’re all responsible for our own actions."

The look off slight surprise on Hermione’s face made it plain she hadn’t expected to win the point and persuade him right off the bat. However this choice of discussion, no matter how necessary, began to fray the edges of the serenity he had woken up with. The grace period drawing to a close, he only half heartedly tried to stop himself from tearing up. As expected, these tears shunted Hermione from surprise to confusion.

"What's wrong?"

"I told you. I'm responsible for my actions."

She thought about it for a moment, and then it was clear she understood. "You mean-"

The door swung open. "Hermione, do you wish to take a break? I can watch- Oh!"

His mother was staring right at him. There were no sign of injuries, but the robes she wore were torn and badly singled, and her shocked eyes looked exhausted. She obviously hadn’t slept since they returned. The shock in her eyes was melting away fast, her whole face splitting into a smile of relief. Asriel wasn't sure he shared it.

"Oh… oh _Asriel!_ "

She had whispered these words, but they carried with the air of the mightiest shout. He barely registered the scrape of Hermione's chair as she gave Toriel room to make a beeline for him and scoop him up in a hug. It was just like when he had returned the first time, but more intimate. He could tell how much she loved him now. He could literally feel it deep in his chest. His soul was hungry for it. She was hugging so tight he couldn't move his arms...

_...but that was because he didn't **have** arms anymore. Those phantom limb sensations were annoying. Anyway, the trick worked. She was right where he wanted him, muttering his old name, blind to everything in the world. Like the pellets that suddenly zoomed into her back as she gave a gasp of shock-_

" **NO!!!** "

He finally freed his arms and pushed himself clear of her grasp. He caught a glimpse of renewed shock and worry as he landed back on the bed, scrambling to back away as far from her as possible. Finding himself literally cornered, he seized his blanket and covered himself with it.

"M-my child?!"

"No, keep back!"

That one memory had broken the dam. Much like before, the weight of his crimes came crashing down in a slow motion tidal wave. Looks of pain and fear and anger, and always dust. If not dust, then the blood of his best friend. He had grabbed his ears so tightly he threatened to rip them off. Maybe that would help make up-

"Asriel? Son?"

The deep and unexpected cadence of his father cut through the memories. They still swirled around threatening to overwhelm him, but his soul resonated at the voice. It gave him enough courage to uncover his head, and discovered that in addition to Asgore, his shouting had summoned Frisk, Harry and Ron. His father wore a clean shirt, but there was grime on his face from the previous night. Frisk wore the same clothes too, but they looked much better rested than their parents. All three wizards were wearing new clothes, but Harry’s arm was in a sling, and Ron had several bandages. So distracted was he by assessing the damage his body had caused, he nearly missed that Toriel was making another attempt to reach out to him, a move he parried with a wild swing of his arm and an unintentional burst of flame.

"No, don't touch me! Please! I'll hurt you!" It wasn't a threat, it was a statement of fact.

"You what?" Ron was scratching his nose to cover his confusion. "But the locket's gone, mate. We got rid of it. _You_ got rid of it!"

"Indeed," agreed Asgore with affection, "you did an incredibly difficult thing, and we're proud of you for it. And now its influence is gone. You need not worry."

"It's not the locket! I know it's gone! Don't you get it you idiots?!" His hands slapped to his mouth in horror at the word. The dream he just woke from was more than an idle threat. Maybe this was a mistake. Not only would he be subjecting them to this, they would have to accept everything he’d done, and that wasn’t fair on them.

"Then what is wrong, Asriel? Why are you so upset?"

" _You know why!_ "

He’d meant to evade the question, to put off the moment of discussing, but some confluence of his hazy recollection and conflicting emotions forced him to say it. And as his parents looked at each other, that hazy recollection fed him the sensation of having his arms held behind him. As Toriel looked back, the grave expression on her face confirmed she did indeed know why.

"That wizard. Is it what he said? Is it..."

The humans in the room all moved at once, as though this was a prearranged signal. Hermione got up and walked towards Ron and Harry. They in turn didn't need prompting, and all three left the room, closing the door behind them. At the same time, Frisk advanced towards him, found one of his hands, and held it firmly. Unlike his parents, he found he could tolerate this. Perhaps because he already had this conversation with them, sort of. The remaining occupants heard Harry say something, and their footsteps were replaced with a faint buzzing. He took a deep breath, and forced a calm expression he wasn't feeling.

"...yes. It’s true." Her quiet gasp hit him like a mortal blow, but he continued. "The locket. It made me, well I didn't forget, but I decided it didn't really matter, so I never brought it up. I didn't tell you everything. I didn't tell you anything. Like when I first woke up as a flower-"

"Son," interrupted Asgore, "we have one question. And then you can discuss what you wish."

He hadn’t expected this. "What?"

"He said that Chara... that they wanted to destroy their hometown. Is that why they... Why you...?"

Shock and guilt walloped him in the stomach. "He talked about that?! No, you weren’t supposed to know, I promised-"

A sharp pain in his hand stopped him. Frisk had squeezed tightly. He looked into those grey eyes, and a simple reminder of his own renewed judgement settled on him. The decision was easy.

"Sorry, old habit. I've a lot of them now. No more secrets. You deserve that much for everything I put you through."

They allowed him a moment to collect himself.

"...we used buttercups." It was Asgore's turn to gasp. "They said we just needed six more souls, and then we'd free everyone and be heroes, but when I took theirs… all that pain, their anger, we only ever saw a fraction of it. I got scared, and I tried to stop them, and that’s how I got..."

His tone was flat. He was not pleading for mercy or understanding, just stating the facts. A sorrow that was not his own enveloped him, as his parents reflected that collective sorrow on their faces.

"...we failed them," murmured Toriel, "if only we had... we had..."

"I don't think there was anything else you could do." The three of them turned to Frisk. “Some pain runs too deep. They never let go. Even if you knew, that would still be there. Some things are beyond our help."

The bluntness of this conclusion was surprising, especially considering the great lengths Frisk had gone to for monsterkind. And yet something about the firmness of their stance shut down all argument.

"Perhaps," said Toriel, "but it is a parent's right to lament when we have let our children down. We still missed the signs. We could not offer what they truly needed, and we all paid the price. Asriel, you... made a terrible mistake that day, but you also tried to make things right. That is all we can ask of you."

"Maybe," he said bluntly, refusing to let her reassurance comfort him, "but that was the last thing I did right for a very long time."

To chronicle his complete existence as Flowey might have taken days, so while only giving an overview of much of it, he spared no detail of his interactions with them personally. Without Frisk he might not have been able to finish, but their hand resting on his kept him calm and determined enough to keep going. The full details of his awakening, how neither could reach him, and how he chose to end it. How the facsimile of his old life gave way to childish pranks. Childish pranks became dangerous pranks. Dangerous became fatal. And how finally he abandoned subtlety and just did it himself.

"...and I told myself 'I don't like this', but that was a lie. I just had to see what happened..."

As he continued, it didn’t escape his notice that his parents became increasingly stricken with each crime recounted, even while he strove to remain calm. He was curiously clear-headed as he watched it happen. Was he really confessing to all this to lay out the truth, or was it to push them away? It certainly looked like the latter was happening in any case. Maybe that was for the best. He hadn’t meant to break their hearts yet again, but with his possessed self already beginning the process, he might as well finish it, and perhaps find a new life so they wouldn’t have to be bothered by him.

"...and then I faked your voices to torment you with each other, until I decided to p-put you out of your misery." He shuddered with disgust. "That was the last time I really hurt either of you. I killed some others for a while longer, but I finally stopped. But I didn’t stop because it was wrong or I felt bad about doing it. I was just bored. B-bored of murder, it's horrible to say it that way, but it's true. So after manipulating people for a few more resets, I finally let things continue. And th-that’s when Frisk fell, and well... you know the s-story from there. I... I'm s-s-so s-sorrrr..."

He couldn't finish his final words. His duty to tell the entire tale discharged, the shell of calm shattered as his guilt enveloped him once again, and he broke down into tears. Frisk was still holding his hand, and from movements Asriel sensed more than saw, was stopping either parent from approaching. Nobody tried to stop him crying, so he wallowed in it until it reached a natural lull. The two blurry white figures were pointed at each other, so he rubbed his eyes fiercely to clear his vision. Understanding he wasn’t privy to passed between them, and then they faced him once more. They were beyond stricken, their faces had a blend of horror and sorrow. Of course they would be, after all he did to them. It was only natural they couldn't bear to look at him.

“My child,” began Toriel, “you should know we discussed what the wizard told us once we returned from Mount Ebott already. We have been waiting for the chance to speak with you about it.”

Her tone was steady. But a steady tone in the face of her emotions was one of Toriel’s skills. “...and?”

"And," she continued, "you may recall that when you first told us about, about Flowey, we concluded you had lost your way due to circumstances none of us could anticipate, and it was only with Frisk's guidance that you found yourself again."

Asriel waited for the 'but' that refused to come. Eventually his impatience outpaced his nervousness. "...and?!"

"And that has not changed. The only difference between now and then is the degree to which you were lost. It would appear... it was far greater... than we imagined..."

It was Toriel's turn to shed tears. She did not bother to shrug off Asgore's hand on her shoulder, but he made no effort to move beyond that. Asriel, so convinced that he had deliberately destroyed any bond that could exist, looked on in surprise as his soul corrected his earlier assumption. It was true they were horrified at what he had done, but it was only part of what they felt. The much larger source of their horror was the grief and turmoil his crimes had inflicted on himself, that they had failed to understand or help him with. His soul's understanding was having a hard time conveying itself to his own, however.

"I... I don't understand. How can you forgive me?"

"I forgave you," said Frisk.

"But, but all I did was attack you a few times. I did so much more to them! I tortured them! I killed them! I killed them again and again and-"

"And we are in remarkably good shape, considering," said Asgore. His voice was steady, but he too was one the verge of weeping.

"Why should that matter? It still happened!"

"Yes, Asriel," nodded Toriel, "but the damage is undone, or perhaps was never inflicted to begin with."

"That’s no excuse-"

"You misunderstand. The damage is undone, but so are the people you hurt. As far as anyone knows, you never laid a finger on them. You do not wish to hurt them?" He didn’t deny the claim. "Then that is all we can ask. It pains you greatly, I can see that, but it is not our forgiveness you should seek. Try as we might, it may never be sincere enough. You must learn to forgive yourself."

"But I can't!" He was actively resenting their efforts to reach him, even though a part of him craved it.

"We shall help you. When our wizard friends went to find you, I asked them to make sure you knew we loved you, no matter what you did, or what you were. That has not changed."

They really didn’t get it. His exasperation at their... their compassion spawned an uncharitable tic of anger, which grabbed him before he could stop himself. "No matter what I was?! Didn't stop you attacking me in front of Frisk!"

"When did I-" Her eyes bulged in shock as she remembered her first encounter with Frisk, and her face screwed up in fresh horror. He finally provoked a reaction he thought was appropriate. And felt even worse for it.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, "but that just proves I'm not worth it."

If anything this intensified her horror. His own soul felt mournful at his recalcitrance, and he started crying in earnest again, while at the same time Toriel resumed her own tears. It didn't stop him noticing the figure now looming over him, Frisk had finally given him permission to approach. A large hand was approaching him.

"Please don't," he said softly, "I don't deserve it."

"It is not a question of deserving it," came the equally soft reply. "If only the deserving received mercy or forgiveness, there would be precious little of either. Besides, Son, you’re forgetting something."

"What?"

"That if you don't deserve it, then neither do I."

Asriel looked up at his father's purple eyes. They seemed dim. His tears continued to flow.

"Asriel, if anyone can appreciate your burden, it is I. Seven children suffered at my hands. And that will always have happened. I can never earn their forgiveness either. You don’t have to be unable to care to do terrible things. I am proof of that. Your mistake hurt our family. Mine destroyed it."

Asriel had curled his arms around his knees and was staring down at them. He felt his father's hand rest on his shoulder, but this time he didn't resist. The shared taint seemed to be the key.

"Wait, seven?" Frisk frowned. "But you only had six souls."

"Well, several months ago I learned of a seventh child I caused untold m-misery towards."

Asriel's head jerked back towards him. "You mean..."

"Yes. Your rebirth was a result of Doctor Alphys’ experiments, experiments I commanded her to perform. As King, responsibility ultimately lies with me. I kept this from you, but I've been having a n-new nightmare since you returned, in addition to the others. A f-flower waking up utterly alone in a dark throne room, c-confused about what's happened, terrified th-that his arms d-don't work and c-crying for a f-father who never..."

His voice was utterly seized up. Asriel was shocked. It was as if he had witnessed his awakening in person. He began to sob in earnest, face submerged in his mighty hands. Toriel looked on, clearly remembering seeing Asgore like this once before.

"Dad," whispered Frisk, stretching to pat his shoulder. "It's okay..."

The hands clenched tightly, and with a deep breath, Asgore forced himself to continue.

"No, Frisk, it's not okay. Today I've learned the scope of my seventh crime was even greater than I could possibly have imagined. In trying to avoid my duty and stick to my principles, I may have caused even more pain to every monster in the Underground than I realised. Asriel, son, the weight of your sins is mine to bear. Do not let them trouble you."

"No!" cried Asriel. He and his soul agreed that to burden others with this was intolerable. "You may have ordered Alphys to find a way to break the barrier and that... woke me up, but I chose to do what I did! You never knew. Besides, it worked! The barrier broke without having to kill anyone else. You've suffered enough, I have to take responsibility for my actions!"

They stared at each other for a long time. Asgore thought of the way Frisk would stare at him. Finally, his hand rested on a small shoulder again.

"Very well, Son. If that is what you wish. But you will not do it alone. If you try to shoulder this burden alone, I will accept responsibility again. One way or another, I will help you find a way to cope. We will deal with it as a family. I won't hear any argument about this!"

His soul felt really warm and comforting now. It was funny how hyper aware he was of all its twinges and reactions. Before he died, he never paid it much heed. You really don't appreciate some things until they were gone. But right now he could feel the clashing emotions of sorrow and hope from his parents. And while he couldn't feel it directly from Frisk, their expression told volumes.

"But how can I make amends to everyone? I mean I broke the barrier, but it's not enough."

"Do as you did when Harry and his friends first arrived, Asriel," said Toriel, "offer a hand of friendship, and do right by them. Try not to let them worry about you without need."

"But, I was under the locket's influence back then. That might as well have been a dream."

"You regret befriending them? You wish you could take it back?"

"Well no, but-"

"Then it is settled."

"And it didn't feel like a dream to me," said Asgore, "Remember, you still remember it happening, so for all intents and purposes you may as well act as it was real."

In spite of himself, remembering that night brought the first smile to Asriel's face since his mother entered the room.

"Does... does it ever stop hurting? Do you ever find peace?"

Asgore dipped his great head slightly. "...I don't know. Not yet at least. But we'll find out together."

"That is correct. We shall _all_ find out together," said Toriel, with a softness sharp enough to slice a pie. 

Asgore looked as though he had forgotten she was there. "But Tori, I don't want you to have to-"

"Not again, Dreemurr. I will not have you make another decision by yourself and refuse all guidance. I will not have you deny our son the support of any who wish to offer it! I shall help us move on, too."

"But Mom-"

A steely look filled her copper eyes. "Perhaps you think because of the miracle of your rebirth, I am now without regrets or sorrow or pain, my child? That it is unfair to burden me with your woes? You are mistaken, grief is not so easily banished. When I chose to allow children to leave my care when I could have done so much more for them by confronting your father? When I clearly failed to understand your needs when you reached out to me, just because I no longer remember it? I am just as complicit in your actions, for having f-failed in my one chance to guide you. I… am j-just as undeserving."

"Don't say that, compared to me you've done nothing-"

"So you refuse to allow me to feel that way? Then you are accepting my help. And your father's help, too! If you wish us to cease being in pain, you must let us help carry yours!"

"And if it gets too much for any of you, I'm right here," said Frisk defiantly. Nobody thought to argue with them.

Asriel's guilt was accompanied by the guilt of their parents, and that in turn set off his grief which was met in kind by their grief. But then he looked at Frisk's encouraging expression, and hope settled into his core, and sure enough his parents’ hope amplified this. And then he suddenly leapt into his father's arms.

They both broke down into tears yet again, Asgore's sobs reverberating throughout the room. Frisk found themselves scooped up by Toriel as, unlike when he first returned, she ensured they were a part of the reunion. The hug fully assembled, she too cried earnestly. Frisk alone retained a dry face as their arm found purchase on Asriel's back, as he said the only words that came to him in such a bittersweet moment.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... I love you..."

None of them had noticed a thin flesh-coloured string poking out from under the door, which chose this moment to withdraw. Ron pocketed the extendable ear as he let a grin settle on his face. Right then, he'd better return from the bathroom before Hermione caught him and pecked him with birds.

* * *

Asriel hadn't felt hungry. He was ready to trust in his family, but he still had a lot to work through. He changed into better fitting pyjamas that Toriel had bought while he was asleep, but hadn't wanted to leave the room. Asgore understood, and reminded him this would all take time. The various people in the house did an admirable job deflecting the large amount of callers from attempting to bother him, the story about town being that he was ill. Well there were illnesses that had nothing to do the body, so it was kind of true. The one person they could not keep away was Papyrus, partly because he had been involved with retrieving him, and partly because he refused to take a hint. But Asriel didn’t mind. He had come to extract a promise that if he ever felt like doing a bad thing that he would let the Great Papyrus counsel him, and that unwavering faith actually did make him feel a little better.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had come back after this and spent the rest of the evening with him. They had guessed, and Ron straight up knew, that he had probably discussed Flowey enough for a lifetime already, so they talked about how amazing he'd been when he destroyed the locket, and was able help him understand what happened afterwards. He gasped when they explained how Harry and Frisk had worked together to banish Voldemort from him, and what that entailed.

"Wow..." He had said softly. "It's like that dr- that stuff that Alphys watches." Another Flowey impulse had almost slipped through. He dreaded going back to school with it, but that was for later.

"Oh, by the way," said Harry, taking something golden out of his pocket, "figured you'd want this back."

It was his locket, the real one. Harry had obviously tried to clean it, but there was still grime in some spots. That white 'A' shone however. Accepting the gift with a quick "Thanks", he was halfway through putting it on, but then halted. A furious debate took place in his head, but it was concluded rather quickly. With a small sigh, he opened his bedside cabinet and deposited the locket inside. Taking the hint to change the subject, the three of them moved onto the other mystery they had discovered some answers to. He was equally amazed when they showed him what they had found at the Orbis house. He read the final letters greedily, his interest in human magic surviving the past few days intact. He felt a spasm of sorrow as he learned of Aurelian's spell and how this may have helped him when he first went to the surface, but even though they were all aware of that night, he didn't let it show.

"So what was up with the memory in the house?" He asked, trying to remain light hearted.

"Erm, a house?" Harry was nonplussed.

"Yeah, I was standing in the middle of a small house. It was more like a cottage. But there was a hole in the ceiling, and I could see the sky. I moved some old bottles around as I placed a small box under a floorboard."

A dishevelled man with wild hair asleep in a chair sprang into Harry's mind. "I think I know that house. But I’ve never visited it. Not really."

Hermione gasped. "Harry, could that be, you know, _his_ memory?"

"Merlin's Pants," muttered Ron, ignoring Asriel’s giggle, "I reckon you're onto something."

"You mean… I remember some of You-Know-Who's memories?"

"Yes. When you- when he was chasing us, he was talking about other things that are important to him."

"So, I might know where they are? Are they like the locket?" He didn't know whether to be scared or excited.

"No," said Harry firmly, clearly seeing where this was headed, "I can't let you do any more than you have. Wizards have put you through enough."

"But-"

"Nah, don’t even try when he’s like this, Asriel," chuckled Ron. "He's doing his saving-people thing. Only we can change his mind. Let him sleep on it. We're not going anywhere until that cast is off anyway."

“Maybe longer, if Kreacher’s still recovering,” reminded Hermione. “It was very kind of Asgore to build a bed of towels for him.”

"Weird how you wouldn’t let us put pyjamas on him," said another voice, "it wasn’t like they’d fit Asriel anymore. But then monsters do weird stuff sometimes, so I can’t criticise too much."

"Oh, howdy Frisk."

"Mom saved you three some dinner, you’ve been keeping Asriel company for ages. She thanks you for doing that, by the way. Besides, it's almost our bedtime."

Harry seemed glad he wasn't about to have someone else put themselves in harm's way for him, and the three of them ushered themselves out. Frisk looked to Asriel with concern, which Asriel forced himself to appreciate.

"How are you feeling, Asriel?"

"Fine- No I'm not, wait a moment." He took the opportunity to properly assess his feelings. "I'm tired. Exhausted really. I still feel terrible. I’m scared I’ll never get over it. I’m also scared I will. And I almost don’t want to go to sleep."

"In case you have a nightmare?"

"Those I can handle. But what if I wake up as him?"

Frisk shot him a look that reminded him of a hundred years ago. "That's not happening. Let me show you."

They walked over to Alphys' soul scanner and used it to scan Asriel again, showing him the soul. They then pushed a button showing earlier readings, and they were a perfect match.

"You've been scanned three times so far, and your soul hasn't changed at all. It's stable. You're stable. You're here to stay. I'll make sure of it."

His hands were grasped again. He smiled in gratitude.

"Thanks. I know it's a dumb fear. But I dreamt about times like this when I was him. I almost knew what caring was like in those dreams. Waking up was torture."

He watched Frisk look on with sadness, which softened his own mood.

"Dad's right, isn't he? There's no quick fix to this. I have to deal with it one day at a time."

"Yeah. But not alone."

"True. It's weird I can't really make it up to anyone." He absently toyed with his ear.

"That's the trouble with resets. It's like Sans said. You're the only one who can judge you."

These words were cold comfort. A small part of him wanted to run up to Sans and explain everything he had ever done to Papyrus and maybe that would assuage his guilt, or maybe anger Sans enough to make it moot. But he had the feeling Sans would go out of his way not to listen. He had made that plain last time. But he wanted to apologise to someone. Anyone would do.

"You know who I really want to say sorry to?"

Frisk raised an eyebrow. "Papyrus?"

"Nah. You saw him earlier, the only reason I didn’t was he wouldn’t let me get a word in. Anyway he'd forgive me no matter what I said. I... I want to apologise to Chara."

"Chara?! But you said-"

"Yeah, they weren't the b-best person. And they persuaded me to try and d-do something terrible. And I know Mom and D-dad blame themselves but really it’s down to m-me. I sh-should have been st-stronger."

Frisk looked appalled. "To go through with the plan?"

Even though he hadn’t explained himself properly, Asriel felt incredulous at the reaction. "No! I sh-should have told them no. I should have m-made them find another w-way. I should have b-burned the buttercups and t-told Mom and Dad. If I had been stronger, n-none of this would h-have haaaaaaa..."

He was crying again. His words were true. Whatever his parents said about the majority of his sins, this was unquestionably on his tally. There was no resetting this away. No matter what happened, he helped his best friend poison themselves, took their soul, and destroyed his family in the process. Toriel had called it a mistake, but when that mistake led directly to Father's crimes, and to Flowey, how could he just brush it aside?

"Asriel," Frisk was tearing up now, "I think Chara would understand why you backed out. I... I think they made a terrible mistake too."

"Y-yeah? Well I'll n-never know, will I? All that rage and p-pain, I wish I s-saw it sooner. I could have h-helped..."

Sobbing quietly, Asriel didn't see Frisk getting out of their clothes. Unlike their parents they had stolen a few hours sleep since returning from the Underground, but it had been on a chair as they maintained the bedside vigil. So caught up was he in his original failures, he didn't see their hand brush against their pocket or hear the gasp. But he did hear-

"Of course!"

The excitement arrested Asriel's sobs as he looked up at them. They extracted something from their pocket that glinted of gold.

_Frisk, what are you doing..._

"Is that… Harry's snitch? What are you doing with it?"

"It's hard to explain, but there's something inside it. It's how I found your soul."

In spite of his abysmal mood, wonder stole across his face. "Really?! That's incredible!"

_Don't do this, please._

"But, why haven't you told anyone?"

"When I tapped into it, I could feel its power. I don't think Harry knows. He's not supposed to know, not yet. If everyone knew, it could turn the world upside down. That's what we agreed on."

"Wait, who’s 'we'? And what are you gonna do?"

_Please, I haven’t changed, I'll hurt him again, and everyone around him too._

"Well I'm gonna give it back to Harry. But first..."

Frisk clasped it tightly, and screwed up their face in concentration. Asriel felt a little intimidated by it.

_This won't help, I'll screw everything up again,_ " _I can't help him! Oh..._ " 

Asriel bleated in pure shock at what had joined them in the room, or rather who. The smoky and insubstantial form of a child stood next to Frisk. Wearing a green and yellow sweater, with tidy brown hair, rosy cheeks, and brown eyes that were hard to read. Their expression was attempting to be inscrutable, but was undermined by the surprise. Mechanically, Asriel got out of bed, and slowly approached them. Tears sourced to one of a half dozen emotions were flowing freely as they looked down at their eyes. When he last looked into them, they were the same height. As he approached, he felt something placed in his hand.

"Hold onto it and don't let go," instructed Frisk, grinning all the while, "I... I have to go to the bathroom."

They headed to the door and left the room, shutting it behind them. Asriel reached out a hand, continuing to sniffle and weep at the miracle he wasn’t sure he wanted. The child seemed equally conflicted, but resigned to the impending conversation, and rested their translucent hand in his. The act of contact opened up emotions that seemed to pool in his hand. He could feel that anger and pain that had driven them so long ago, like they were a part of his soul again, but there was an effort to blunt it. There were other feelings too. A strong feeling of regret that threatened to drown both of them, only parried and matched by the relief aimed directly at him.

" _Hey there, crybaby,_ " said Chara, finally flashing a smile, " _let's talk, then._ "


	14. The Parting of the Ways

"Now hold still, buddy. I mean, 'young man'."

Harry was sitting in the overlarge chair by the fireplace in Toriel's living room, as Toriel herself looked on. A lanky and rather jaded looking cat with a stethoscope was resting his hands on his upper arm. There was a twinge of pain as a loose fragment of bone was forced into its proper position, but the warm comfort of his magic soon dulled this. The dull ache that continued to linger since that night had lessened as well.

"It's like Doctor Drake said in your case notes, for a human you respond really well to healing magic, considering how bad a break that was. I'll need to do this two or three more times, but then it will be like it never happened. Best not to do it all at once, we don't want to overtax your body."

"Thank you, Doctor Pants."

He sighed wearily. The name was clearly an irritant. He then launched into a well rehearsed explanation. "I know my hospital ID says that, Your Maj- I mean Ma'am, but that's a clerical error. Someone in admin seemed to think that's my name."

"Oh? I happened to be speaking to a Hospital Clerk the other day. I think her name was Catty?"

Harry could tell this was news to him, but he didn't react much. "Ah. That would explain it."

"In any case, I apologise for the misunderstanding, Doctor...?"

"I'm not a Doctor, Ma'am. Not yet anyway. Still in training. Turns out spending three years handling meat gives you quite a knack for manipulating it. I'll probably be fully qualified in a year or so."

Harry didn't know how he felt about being a practice dummy, but since the cat had done a far better job than Gilderoy Lockhart, he was willing to go along with it.

"And you had no interest in healing at all before then? That is surprising."

"Eh, I still don't. This is just a gig to keep me away from- well, I'd rather not dwell on it. Once monsters make proper contact with humans, I'm getting an agent and sending my headshot everywhere I can. And my screenplay if I've finished it by then."

"You wish to become an entertainer? Well perhaps in the meantime you should get in touch with the likes of Mettaton. I am sure the King could facilitate a meeting."

Something flashed in his otherwise disinterested eyes. "Uhh, I don't think my creative vision is compatible with his. I'll take my chances solo. In the meantime, I guess this isn't the worst thing to fall back on. I'm twenty years old, it's not like I've wasted my life." As he took Harry's pulse with one hand, he was fishing in his coat pocket with the other, and soon extracted a pack of cigarettes.

"I would appreciate if you did not smoke in my house," Toriel said curtly, "I have children here."

Like Asgore, Toriel had a knack for concealing a commanding edge in otherwise mild requests, and on this occasion it was razor sharp. The cat was almost bored by the threat, seemingly inured to such danger.

"Sure, sure. Sorry Ma'am." He put the pack away. "Well I suggest you skip the gym today, young man, and I'll see you tomorrow for the next treatment." With that, he left.

Toriel frowned slightly as she watched him walk down the street. "I am not sure I approve of his bedside manner, but Doctor Drake assured me he was the most promising Human Healer on staff. For the sake of his future patients I do hope he develops a healthier."

"Sometimes being borderline unlikable has nothing to do with how good you are at something," mused Harry.

"Yes, well, I still believe such things are important. So do you wish to meet up with your friends now? Mettaton is under instruction not to ask you- oh, children!"

Toriel had made no effort to wake Asriel and Frisk that morning, figuring they would have had trouble sleeping. So to see them arrive mid-morning was not a surprise. Asriel was wearing the set of clothes she had bought him while he slept. The solid purple jumper was slightly too big for him, but he hadn't been available to try it on. Besides, it meant it would last longer now that he had begun growing in earnest.

"Did you sleep well?" She asked. Everyone knew the answer.

"Not really," confirmed Asriel with brutal honesty. "I spent a long time talking with… with Frisk, and then I spent an even longer time just thinking. And I had a nightmare about what I did."

He still looked tired, though not as tired as when he was freed from Voldemort, but it was there in his eyes. And Harry could now recognise what else he had seen that night, that was still lingering now. It was sorrow. He'd seen that glint in Asgore's eyes when they first met him.

"Oh my," Toriel lamented softly, "did I sleep through that? My child, I am so sorry-"

"No, no! I wasn't screaming or anything. I just bolted upright in bed. I was gonna call for you, but Frisk was already awake. They helped calm me down."

Toriel allowed mild relief to appear on her face. "I am glad to hear that. Frisk, I know you are looking out for your brother, and I cannot thank you enough, but I hope you were not staying up all night to keep watch. If such an act is necessary, your father or I should do that."

"It's okay, Mom. I just had, well I guess you could call it a hunch, and I happened to wake up and hear him muttering. It's just luck, that's all."

Toriel looked shrewdly at them, but decided not to push the point.

"Oh, Harry! I almost forgot." Frisk approached him, and pulled out the snitch. "You dropped this in the Underground when, um, when the locket was smashed."

Harry hadn't examined his pouch since then, there had been no time. Everything had been in such a rush. "Oh! Er, thanks Frisk. I'd hate to lose that."

"Yeah, best not to leave your sentimental value behind."

Harry was seized with the urge to explain the entire story behind the snitch and Dumbledore's other gifts in the hope Frisk could explain it, but common sense prevailed. The locket was one thing, that had observable effects you could guess about, but the snitch was almost entirely inert. Instead he fumbled with the drawstring of his pouch and dropped it in.

"Anyway children, I saved some breakfast for when you woke up. Asriel, I understand you weren't hungry yesterday, but that means you haven't eaten in two days. You will eat something now. This is not a request."

"Okay, mom." He raised a smile at her.

"What do you plan to do after breakfast? I shall need to get you some more clothes now that you can try them on."

"Actually," said Frisk, "we were just going to spend some time upstairs, and maybe go outside by ourselves later if the weather's still good. It's been crazy no matter how you slice it, we need to unwind."

She gave a deep sigh, and a small, sad smile aimed at her son. "Of course. We can get you clothes tomorrow. Just remember what we discussed. I am here if you need help. And your father now probably has his phone glued to his ear. Do not hesitate to tell anyone if you have trouble."

Harry saw a brief look of annoyance cross Asriel's face, like he resented being coddled, but then with a look of effort it appeared to become genuine gratitude. "Thanks, Mom. I won't forget."

* * *

When Harry arrived at the park, Mettaton, Ron and Hermione were nowhere in sight. A normal-ish looking cat who answered to the name of Bob pointed him towards a trailer in the corner of the park, with a black and pink star on the door. As he approached the the door opened automatically and sure enough he found Hermione and Ron. Mettaton was there too, looking thoughtfully at a silver otter and terrier scurrying around the floor.

"Hmm, they're certainly cute," he said thoughtfully, "but they don't have the wow factor I'm looking for. Are you sure you can't change them?"

"No, they're unique to each wizard." Hermione explained.

"Oh, well what about your _DARLING!_ " He had noticed Harry mid-sentence, gotten to his feet and advanced, threatening a hug.

"Oi, his arm's broken, don't touch him!" Yelled Ron.

"Oh, how foolish of me! Asgore did mention the accident. So sorry about that. Anyway, we were just picking up where we left off the other day and-"

"I can't show you here," said Harry flatly, "it's too big, Muggles might see it."

"Even better! A mystery box! Not even I'll know what's coming. I've been meaning to practice my improv skills."

"Here," demanded Ron, "what makes you think we'll do it?"

"Well I know the King will refuse to let you leave when your arm's like that. He'll hold you at tridentpoint until you're all better. And even then these two mentioned your ride out of town won’t be ready, so it’s not like you can just leave. And you're meant to get better on the day of the show! It's providence, dears!"

After a non-committal promise to think about it, Harry managed to extract Ron and Hermione, and they went for an early lunch. The topic of discussion was when to leave, complicated by Hermione’s insistence on letting Kreacher rest as long as possible. Even with that, Mettaton had been right. An unspoken agreement had formed that of course they'd attend the concert. This place could wear you down in ways you wouldn't expect. When they returned to the park, Mettaton was on the stage rehearsing. Ron suggested making a break for it, when-

"Howdy, guys!"

Frisk and Asriel were approaching them. They had identical looks of resolve.

"Can we talk in private?" asked Frisk. "And do that buzzing thing you did yesterday."

With the trailer empty, it was as good a place as any to talk. The five of them entered, and Ron closed the door.

" _Muffliato_. Now what's wrong?"

"Nothing," said Frisk pleasantly, "it's just we think we can help you defeat You-Know-Who."

"You what?!" blurted Ron. "You two are barking!"

"No," decreed Harry. "For one thing, I’ve seen your dad when he's angry and I don’t want to see that again, I bet your mum would get back with him instantly just to kill me. If either of you get hurt after everything that's-"

"No, not like that!" Asriel was determined to backpedal what Frisk had implied. "We meant with information!"

The three of them gave a puzzled look as Frisk fiddled on their phone. A new map of Britain flashed into existence.It had a number of markings spread across the country. They were significantly less tidy than Voldemort's notes had been, and few were in the same location. On an extract showing London there were several sites, and a big question mark in the Scottish Highlands. There was also a few pieces of note paper, matching up descriptions with numbers on the map.

"Frisk and I have been talking all morning. I've been thinking about stuff I remember that I definitely didn't do. I didn't get everything, but when he was, you know, controlling me, he was thinking about where more of those things that protect him are, they might be in some of these places!"

"Oh Asriel," Hermione looked guilty, "we can't ask you to dwell on those thoughts-"

"Too late, I already did! And yeah, some of it was horrible and nasty and twisted. But..." His smile melted away. "I've done stuff like that already." Frisk held his hand firmly. This gave him an emotional second wind. "What’s that word Mom used in class? Oh yeah, a fait accompli. I think that’s what we have here. The information's all there, so you might as well take it!"

Unable to grip the map properly, Harry consulted the accompanying notes. Descriptions of sites and areas, but with few identifying names. They seemed to spark his imagination, trying to get himself to think like Voldemort. Some even supported half-guesses he had made before. But then...

"I don't understand, Asriel. Surely you've enough baggage of your own to work through. Why would you subject yourself to everything he's done on top of all that? Do you really want to help us that much?"

"Well we're friends, aren't we? Frisk will tell you, I go a long way for a friend. But it's more than that."

Harry looked at the boy who’d had enough trouble for a lifetime. "What?"

Asriel's smile faded again. "This is the only way I have to make up for what I did."

Frisk squeezed his hand reassuringly. Hermione appeared to have understood at once and her eyes were overbright. Ron gave voice to Harry's confusion.

"Erm, sorry?"

"Well, because you can say most of what I did never actually happened, I feel like I can't just say sorry to everyone. I've been able to say sorry to a few people, but not enough. Most of them won't get it. Mom and Dad barely got it. That only leaves trying to make amends. Breaking the barrier was a good start, but it's not enough. So I had this idea. We're still kind of trapped in Ebott, because wizards are too busy to talk to us or let us talk to anyone else. So I figured, try and help my friends break that stalemate, and that might help monsters too! I don't think we'll do too well if he wins."

"Heh. Two birds with one stone," Ron murmured, impressed. "You're like your mum, dead shrewd."

Harry still had nameless doubts. "But-"

Asriel wasn’t having it. "Look, Harry, the information's there. I was gonna have nightmares tonight anyway, you knew that. And this isn't about you, or even the people he's putting in danger, I need to do this for myself too. This is the only way I can think of to help monsters right now! So you better take it or I'll-"

He had been getting more loud and agitated as he spoke, even angry, and Frisk suddenly seized his arm, causing him to freeze as he realised what he was saying. Then he dipped his head in shame. Frisk moved their hand to his shoulder to reassure him.

"I'm sorry," he muttered softly, "I got pretty impatient when I was a flower. I guess I need to watch out for that."

"No, I'm sorry. I'm being thick," said Harry. "It's just, beating You-Know-Who is one thing, how do we facilitate diplomatic channels like that? I reckon we'll be pretty busy."

"Well it's not like we don't have contacts in the Ministry," said Ron slyly. "Sure, they're useless right now, but with the right reshuffle maybe they'll listen."

"What about a password?"

Everyone looked at Hermione. "Sorry?" asked Frisk.

"Do you remember the Fidelius Charm? The spell Aurelian used to hide knowledge of Monsters? Well we could come up with a password, and I could keep it secret, and if we get the right contacts we can tell someone, so when they come they give the passcode, and you know they're alright."

"Oh yeah. That sounds cool!" Asriel looked pleased.

"We'll probably have to discuss that part with Asgore. I wouldn't tell your mum, she'll probably fret about what you've done today already." She got up and headed to the door. "How about we talk to him right now and _OH!_ "

"'sup, wiz-kids." Sans had fully assembled a hotdog stand right outside the trailer. "sorry if i was _buzzin'_ around. just had a good feeling about selling here. and, uh, sorry for weighing you down the other day."

"Th-that was my fault, Sans. I tricked you." Asriel looked curiously tense around Sans right now, but determined to stand his ground too.

"don't worry about it, cap. papyrus told me the story. from what i hear, you had a lot on your mind. like another mind."

Asriel chuckled. "Y-yeah, you could put it that way. Uh, do you know where Dad is? We need to talk to him."

"sure, he declined to buy a hot dog from me half an hour ago, he was supervising the stall set up over on school street. doing a little diplomatic summit?"

Ron gave the game away. "How did-"

"the reason you came here is gone, i figure you kids wouldn't just leave it at that. you're _charming_ like that. i'll go with you, i'm due a break."

"Alright then. 's not like we can leave town anyway, with Kreacher still hurt."

"that little guy who was all ears? well if you're that desperate to skip town, you can hitch a ride with me."

The three stared at him.

"Really?" said Hermione. "You'd take us to Britain?"

"yeah. i know a shortcut."

"No," said Ron with absolute assurance of his position, "I mean, okay, you got us back to town right and quick, but how does it even work?"

He raised a bony finger to his grin. "not-magic.”

"Well we appreciate the offer, Sans," said Hermione, "thank you."

"no problem. put her there."

"Hermione, wait-"

A deafening cacophony of noise erupted into being from nowhere. Foghorns, sirens, screeching cats, a full orchestra blaring discordant notes and many other things. Everyone nearby who had hands and ears covered the latter with the former. It went on for a full ten seconds, before it stopped, concluding with with an almost pathetic sounding _pbbbbbbbbbbbbbbt_. Hermione let go of Sans’ hand, who revealed a bright purple whoopee cushion with 'Weasley's Windy Woolsack' written in golden letters.

"heh. they're pretty good at responding to feedback. sent this along to let me test it. maybe a little too much oomph there."

* * *

Asgore wasn't too pleased with what Frisk and Asriel had done regarding reconnaissance for Harry, but flanked by two sources of determination he decided not to push. Ariel was right that there was a need to take some initiative to escape the limbo monsters found themselves in. Ebott held many wonders that humans took for granted, but for some it would never be enough. And as they had risked their lives to return his son, Harry, Ron and Hermione now had his complete gratitude and trust. The password was agreed upon and Hermione cast the Fidelius Charm right there, allowing the other six present to read it off a piece of paper before burning it.

Dinner that evening was with both the King and Queen present, and Harry had the distinct impression this was going to be a more regular occurrence than it had been in the past. They still spoke mostly of mundane business when talking to each other, but Harry caught Ron looking approvingly even at this. Asriel had asked if he and Frisk could stargaze that night, but neither parent wanted him going out to the woods. Hermione stepped in, explaining the enchantments she could put on a telescope for Astronomy that meant they didn't need to stay away from city lights, so Toriel relented to let them do it in the backyard.

As they were setting up for it, Asriel was carrying his telescope into the yard, when he tripped and fell, and the telescope broke. From his time spent with him, Harry expected him to cry. He was surprised, then, when Asriel launched into an angry string of curses, before catching himself and clasping his mouth shut with his hands before his mother heard.

"Blimey," said Ron, "never pegged you to swear like a sailor."

"You pick up a lot of stuff at Grillby's on a Saturday night when nobody notices you," said Asriel, looking ashamed at himself. "Why can't I be nice? I'm such an idiot."

"Of course you're not!" insisted Hermione, with a tone of knowing it to be true, "you just have some old habits you need to work on. _Reparo._ " The telescope mended itself.

"But I feel it. That anger and spite. Like the next time some annoys me I'll want to rip them apart. Maybe literally. And then I feel bad and then I get mad I let myself feel like that and then-"

"Well you feel bad about it. Isn't that a sign you want to be better?" suggested Harry.

"Maybe. But it's hard."

"Hey," said Frisk, "maybe you should talk to a therapist. Alphys told me she talks to someone when she feels low."

"Right," muttered Asriel, his voice heavy with irony, "that'll go down well. 'Excuse me, I feel bad for being a mass murderer.' How can it work, there's no excuse-"

"Well no, there isn't," said Hermione patiently, "but there is understanding. You weren't in your right mind-"

"Don't you start trying to downplay it! I did it, and I chose to do it!"

"I'm not! I'm just saying that people do terrible things when they're not well all the time. It doesn't mean they let that part of their life define them. Look, you want to stop feeling like that, right?"

"Well yeah-"

"Then I think Frisk is right," said Harry. "Might as well give it a try. Wouldn't hurt, would it?”

”Erm, what's Muggle Therapy like?” asked Ron. ”Is it with potions or something? Oh wait, they can't brew those.”

Both children looked amused at his cluelessness, and Frisk briefly described the concept to him.

"So you just talk to someone about why you're upset and they make you feel better? Amazing what Muggles can do without magic."

"It's not as easy as that, you have to work really hard at it. Maybe for years, and possibly for life. And it's not like wizards wouldn't benefit from it either. Do you think a cheering charm would help you deal with spiders?"

"Oh yeah, good point." He shuddered.

Asriel's foul mood passed, and soon he was back to being like the boy they had first met. From Harry's perspective, despite his new rough edges, Asriel was still the same person at his core. As Hermione enchanted the telescope, Harry and Frisk could see the excitement build in his face, just like old times. He was eager to help out, and had used his magic to create a campfire. And he paid rapt attention as Hermione began to regurgitate five years of Astronomy lessons, something Frisk had little interest in, so they joined Harry and Ron at the campfire.

"I just wanted to say thanks. For everything."

"Sure, no problem," said Ron lazily, "we're good at sorting stuff out like that."

Harry felt like there were loose ends in all this. "I still don't understand where his new soul came from."

"Did anybody check before we smashed the locket?" offered Ron. "Maybe he had one all along and we got worked up over nothing."

"Yeah, maybe..." Frisk was non-committal about it.

Ron looked over to Asriel and Hermione. "Do you reckon he'll be alright? I mean, blimey, that's a lot to deal with all at once."

"He'll be fine," said Frisk, partly to reassure themselves, "he's only been trying for a day. I know it will be hard sometimes, but I'm determined to help him."

"Well he's got a good understanding of what he needs to do," said Harry, casting his mind back. "Only with understanding can there be acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery."

Frisk raised an eyebrow. "Did Dad tell you that?"

"Er, no, it was a teacher of mine."

"Oh. Well you're right. He knows what he wants to be, and we can help him get there."

The three of them looked up from the fire at the stars. Harry had spent so much time at Hogwarts trying to memorise their names and position that he had kind of forgotten to stop and appreciate that they were just beautiful to look at. Asriel had the right idea, really.

That night, Harry received a cruel reminder of his responsibilities, as he awoke to a burning scar and a vision of flying over nameless countryside, continuing his search for something. The information he had received that day bolstered his resolve however, for he no longer had to fling around in abject darkness. Before he settled to sleep again, he heard voices in the room next door. No screaming or crying however. Frisk and Asriel seemed to be handling their burden well for the moment. And that two children could face such a burden filled Harry with determination.

* * *

Everyone agreed the festival was a smash hit, and they were certainly going to make it an annual event.

Asriel and Frisk hadn't partaken of much of the direct festivities. They had their fun at the funfair before it opened, and the week's events meant they weren't really in the mood. Not that they didn't enjoy watching everybody mingle in the streets looking at exhibitions and trying the games. The atmosphere was infectious. They witnessed a hotly contested battle of wordplay and jokes between Toriel and Sans, Toriel laughing out loud in a way you rarely saw in public. Papyrus was seizing the arm of any human in range and shaking it vigorously. Asriel declined Gerson's invitation to try and dunk the King, Asgore indeed sitting on a bench above a tank of water. Frisk felt no such compunctions, but missed with their throw. In the end Monsterkid was on target with a throw from his tail, and Asgore fell with a mighty splash. Upon climbing out the first thing he did was laugh, and then dried himself off with his magic while Gerson reset the bench. It had been awkward when they bumped into Lance and Ursk. Like Ursk, Lance thanked Asriel for helping them and apologised for talking about Frisk. Asriel made a brave show of accepting it, for what really happened couldn't be discussed, but Frisk knew he felt bad about it, even if it had been someone else who did it.

Harry, freshly de-casted, was accompanying Ron and Hermione as they made their own way around the festival. Ron was taking the last chance to sample monster food, though he made a point to steer clear of the purple stall where Muffet was selling her wares. Alphys was animatedly showing off the results of monster scientific development, with Undyne being the occasional guinea pig. Hermione regretted how crowded the place was, because she'd have liked to continue the discussion of magical theory with her.

And then, at last, the long threatened concert kicked off. Mettaton strutting dramatic poses and singing while accompanied by a singing fish and Napstablook at the DJ table. In the middle of the performance, Frisk was invited onto the stage for an 'encore', though Harry had no knowledge of the first performance. That left him backstage with Asriel, as Hermione and Ron were in the main crowd. They could hear Mettaton praise Frisk for helping bring peace, the focus very not much on how the barrier broke, and Asriel happy to keep it that way. Going backstage with Harry had been his compromise to go to the concert at all, as he didn't feel ready to be in the middle of a crowd like that.

Mettaton's light show kicked in. A dozen monsters firing off all sorts of lights and shapes. Stars and hearts and moons and spears and bones and rainbows. There were also wild fireworks, red and green and blue, flying above the crowd in the shape of rockets and dragons and never seeming to go out. Harry supposed Sans had decided to try some of Fred and George's products.

The effects under Mettaton's control shifted colour to be a deep gold. This was Harry's cue, a cue he had relented to half an hour before the concert started, and he pulled out his wand and thought of Ginny.

" _Expecto Patronum!_ "

Asriel's eyes widened in wonder as a silver stag erupted from Harry's wand and cantered onto the stage, before galloping into the fray of lights and fireworks above the crowd.

"Oh my! What fabulous antlers! Be careful you don't make the King jealous!"

Harry and Asriel could have sworn they heard Asgore laugh, even though they weren't sure where he was in the crowd. Harry continued to guide the stag around for a few minutes before having it streak away as a bolt of silver light. The crowd was suitably awestruck, and burst into applause. Everyone had the most peaceful sleep they had for a long time at the end of such a day.

And then, the next morning, Harry, Ron and Hermione were all packed. Toriel had come round to Asgore's and cooked them breakfast one last time, and then offered them a few lunch boxes with assorted deserts.

"Asriel told me your favourite is treacle tart, so I attempted to make it. It is the least I can offer for all you have done for us."

Harry looked briefly nonplussed until he caught Asriel's wink. "Oh, yeah! I mentioned that the other day. Not that your pie isn't good as well."

And now they were sitting in Asgore's living room with a final cup of tea, just waiting on Sans to arrive. Asriel was trying to keep a brave face, but this was undermined by his tears. Frisk seemed reassured by them.

"Th-thanks for everything. I hope you stay safe."

"Don't worry about us. You've your own life to live."

"Ha ha, I do, don't I?" He sniffled. "It's been a while."

"Well focus on that, then. Oh, and don't worry about Kreacher, I've ordered- I mean instructed him to move on when he feels better."

Enthusiastic knocking interrupted the conversation, and Toriel went to answer.

"I APOLOGISE FOR OUR TARDINESS, YOUR MAJESTY, BUT SANS CLAIMED HE HAD A NAP PRESCRIPTION HE NEEDED TO TAKE. FRANKLY, I'M SKEPTICAL."

Papyrus entered the room actually carrying Sans, planting him in the middle of the room in the most accusatory manner he could muster.

"are you claiming i _doctored_ that note?"

"IF I DIDN'T KNOW ANY BETTER, I'D SAY IT WAS YOUR HANDWRITING."

"what a coincidence. so, you kids ready to go?"

"Um, yes." Said Hermione. "Everyone, thank you so much for your help."

"FAREWELL, HARRY! FAREWELL, RON! FAREWELL, HERM-O-NINNY!"

A wry smile appeared on her face. "Thank you, Papyrus."

"Goodbye, guys." said Frisk.

"I hope we shall meet again." added Toriel.

"Thank you once more for everything." Asgore contributed.

"Y-yeah, thanks." whispered Asriel, who then turned away to blunt the pain of parting. But then he thought of something. "Hey, Harry, what about-"

But they were gone.

"I never get how Sans does that in front of everyone."

Asriel looked over at his mother, who had stood up and was taking a deep breath.

"Now then, we have one very important thing to do." Everyone looked gravely at her. "School begins on Monday, so let us make sure you two are properly packed."

Both children launched into protests. Toriel smiled at the reaction.


	15. The Letters From Someone

"I said I was sorry!"

"And I'm pleased you did. This does not change my decision. Or your mother's."

"Aw, come on!"

Asriel was sulking on the freshly painted bench outside the old house. Frisk sat next to him, trying to be supportive.

"But Dad," they said, "up to the last day of school? Isn't that harsh?"

Asgore delicately pulled a weed from among the flowers. "Perhaps a little. But then perhaps Asriel should have thought about that before."

"I didn't mean it!" Asriel was half frustrated, half remorseful. "I was nervous about the test, and I had a headache which Mom herself said was likely my horns getting ready to bud. It was an accident when I bumped into Sally-"

"And when you yelled at her? And shoved her and cursed at her even after she fell down?"

Only remorse remained. "I know I shouldn't have done it. I just reacted on instinct. It's hard sometimes."

"I know, Son. And so does your mother. That's why you only got a week's detention now, without another week once school starts again. Such are the dangers of having a parent at your school. They cannot afford to go soft on you."

"But it's been months since I did that the last time! Remember when I did it every couple of weeks? Mom didn't punish me then."

"You know why. The… wounds of your past were still fresh then. Didn't she warn you that once you started going to therapy she would not let up on you?"

"Well, yeah," he admitted, "and Doctor Aventine has been great. I definitely don't miss the daily nightmares."

"Neither do I. I know you've been working hard, and I'm proud of you. The good Doctor has been helpful for my own issues as well. These coping strategies are most useful. It's not easy, I know."

It had been hard, but with Frisk acting as a bulwark against any backsliding, it wasn't like either of them could regress. Asriel hadn't been as honest as might have warranted, but as he explained to Frisk, how could he express the guilt of killing his mother when his mother stood right there? Still, an intense trauma when he was younger leading to a complete shutdown of empathy was a problem Doctor Aventine could help him truly recover from. They all knew he would have to carry it with him, but he wouldn't have to do it alone. And as he came to truly believe he deserved help, the outbursts dwindled, but never faded completely. Hence the discussion today.

"Yeah, I know you do, Dad."

Asgore replanted a flower he had moved to get access at the soil. "Speaking of coping strategies, have you been practising the de-escalation techniques he talks about? To help you see the flashpoints and defuse them before they ignite?"

"Yeah! Well, mostly. But yesterday I got really busy studying for the test and then..."

"I see. Then perhaps your error was not what you did in the hallway, it was the poor priorities you chose at home."

Asriel rolled his eyes. "Right. Because Mom would have been thrilled if I failed that test." Covering his less charitable impulses in sarcasm was been a more organic coping mechanism he had cultivated.

The King adjusted his sun hat. "You are doing no justice to your mother's priorities. A few extra marks on a test is not worth putting the progress you have made at risk. She will tell you this herself."

"Dad's right," Frisk chipped in, "and, well, you were really rough towards Sally."

Asriel exhaled. "I know. I feel terrible. I guess there's a selfish part of me who thinks that's punishment enough. That's wrong."

Asgore had moved to extracting more weeds from the garden path. "I am glad you see it that way. Our actions will always have consequences, even if only for ourselves. And to be blunt, school is your mother's domain. Even if I were inclined to meddle with her decisions, that would probably precipitate a civil war."

The four of them laughed. Wait a moment, four of them...?

"yeah, i'd be pretty _war_ -ried if it came to that."

" _Sans!_ Don't do that! We're discussing… personal stuff."

"oh, that stuff i've been working really hard not to listen to? sorry, cap."

Asgore retrieved a bucket of water and was washing the large rock. "You're here a little earlier than I expected, Sans, but it's good you're here."

"Why are you here?" asked Frisk.

"Because there is more on my mind today than school policy. If I may ask, how do you think the first meeting of the Barrier Festival committee went?"

"You're on the committee?" Asriel smirked disbelievingly. "What are you in charge of?"

"catering. i bring snacks to _cater_ for their arguments."

"So there wasn't much agreement?"

"Those committees usually only agree to disagree," shrugged Asriel without much interest.

"i wasn't really listening." He extracted a piece of paper. "according to the minutes they're going with last year's plan as a baseline."

"Hmm, I suppose that will be fine in a pinch, but it would be nice to mix things up. For example, perhaps Gerson could be the one who is dunked, I think running such a game would be fun!" A goofy smile appeared at the thought.

Frisk raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you tell them that in person, Dad?"

"Well, why don't you?"

Both children looked puzzled, then surprised. Asriel broke from cover first, green eyes wide with excitement.

"You mean you want us to-?"

"Yes. Clearly some sort of arbitration is needed or nothing will get done. They'll probably listen to the two of you just as readily as me, if not more so. And it's good for you to continue to get involved with the community. Both as "

"Oh, wow! That's amazing! Thank you Dad, I won't let you down!"

"Neither will I!"

"I know you won't. And I believe-" He got to his feet with a grunt. "-I'm finished here."

Everyone walked round to where he was. The headstone of Aurelian Orbis' grave was spotless, the Delta Rune quite visible on it. A thin line of dark stones now marked the approximate location of his body, which was still blanketed in golden flowers. On the boundaries of the grave rested vases of different flowers and tokens of well wishes with messages of thanks scribbled on them from monsters. But only from monsters, Frisk was the only human in Domus Nova to know of this place. The gifts complemented the wider garden, which while not looking much different from when Frisk first saw it, definitely had an air of being actively tended and cared for. Indeed, keeping the garden and the house in good shape had been a project of Asgore's, not long after he began his own therapy. He had explained it was the only way he could show gratitude for the sacrifice.

"You've done a good job, Dad," said Asriel softly. "I don't think he'd ever have expected this."

"All the more reason to do it, Son," mused Asgore. "Now, shall I return you to your mother's for dinner-"

As part of tidying up the house, Asgore had painted and oiled the gate. That meant nobody heard it until it shut again.

The four of them turned round. A human was calmly walking up the path towards them. The impeccable navy suit adjusted for his broad shoulders was an effective compliment to his dark skin. In lieu of any hair on his head, only a gold hoop earring stuck out, and yet it didn't undermine the impact of the suit. He stopped a few paces from them and his dark eyes surveyed the group. At this distance his height was most pronounced. Asgore only outpaced him by maybe a foot. As he continued to appraise them with a methodical but good natured manner, Frisk's mind raced. It was obvious he had not stumbled across this house by accident.

"Oh, er, howdy!" Asgore finally broke the silence. "Can I help you, sir?"

"You are Asgore Dreemurr, correct?" His voice was almost as deep as Asgore's, and had a calm reassuring air to it.

"Um, y-yes. What can I do for you?"

The man gave a deep respectful bow, and then cleared his throat.

"I, Kingsley Shacklebolt, duly appointed Minister for Magic of Great Britain, do hereby offer terms of parley to the King of Monsters."

This declaration settled on them like a thick blanket. Asriel was looking in amazement at him. Frisk was returning his expression of stoic appraisal. Sans was unreadable. Asgore was in the middle of trying to pull off his gloves.

"Oh. Well, that's very nice of you, Minister Shacklebolt. Perhaps we should go to-"

"heya."

Sans had walked towards Kingsley, sizing him up.

"you might be forgetting something, mister minister. unless things aren't going so great back home?"

Kingsley returned his evaluating posture, and then smiled. "Ah, yes. It slipped my mind. I must apologise." He reached into his jacket, and fished out a small scrap of parchment. He read without embarrassment.

"I, Kingsley Shacklebolt, duly appointed Minister for Magic of Great Britain, am the Legendary Fartmaster."

Asriel giggled, and Frisk smiled with relief.

"heh-heh. okay, we're cool your majesty. he's all yours."

"One moment, please." Kingsley now walked over to the two children. "You must be Asriel and Frisk Dreemurr?" They nodded curiously. "I have something for you."

He reached into his jacket again, and took out an envelope with a notable lump.

"Our mutual friend asked me to show you this, then I'd return it to him." He continued to smile.

Asriel took the envelope and gingerly opened it. He pulled out a piece of parchment, and then-

"Oh!"

Asgore looked politely puzzled at his children's reaction. In Asriel's fuzzy hand lay a golden snitch. Only now it was open along a previously invisible hinge, its inside quite hollow and empty. Frisk took the parchment and read it.

_Hello Frisk and Asriel,_

_Hope you haven't had too much trouble on your doorstep since we left. It's crazy round here right now, lots to sort out, but we figured you'd want to know he's gone. All of him. He can't hurt you or anyone else ever again. It was close, but it was worth it. Kingsley's been great, really patient as we explained all about Ebott, not doubting us for a second. Not that we told him about your past Asriel, we've no right to tell him. But we'll definitely be coming round for the next festival, and we can tell you all about it then. We'll bring some of our friends, they sounded interested too!_

_Frisk, we figured out what you must have done that night. How you saved him. Because Harry had to do it too. We can tell you about it in person. We're delighted you made such good use of it, though you ought to know that it's gone now. It's probably for the best, that kind of power is way too much hassle to have running amok. If you want to contact us before we come round, send a letter with Kingsley, and we can correspond by owl. See you at the festival!_

_Harry, Ron and Hermione_

All Asriel could think of in his surprise was that it was good he'd have finished his detention by then.

* * *

The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well.

"Right then," said Ron, as the smoke from the scarlet steam engine began to disperse,. "we'd better be headed on. Hugo here still needs to make sure everything's ready for Muggle school tomorrow."

Hugo didn't think much of this notion, clearly wishing he could have gone on the train. Young Lily's expression sympathised with him. Ginny continued to smile at both of them.

"Okay," said Harry, "we were headed over to Diagon Alley to pick up a few things before tomorrow and then-"

"Mister Potter?"

A young witch with curly brown hair and in Ministry robes, clearly not out of Hogwarts very long, had spotted the group and was marching towards them. She took out an envelope from her robes.

"Sorry to bother you, sir. The Department of International Magical Co-operation asked me to give you this."

"Oh, thank you." He took the envelope from her. She nodded, glanced briefly at his scar, and disapparated. He opened it to find a letter, written on paper rather than parchment.

Lily looked up as he scanned the letter. "What is it, Dad?"

Harry smiled wryly. "Seems there's a change of plans. The Ebott delegation have wrapped up their meeting with the Prime Minister early, and someone suggested an informal get together before tomorrow's tour of the Ministry."

"Really?" Lily frowned. "I know you have to organise security for wizards from other countries and things like that, but why can't you let someone else do it on your day off?"

"Oh Lily, you've misunderstood what he said," said Ginny, as she glanced at the letter, "your father isn't in charge of security this time. He's a guest. We all are."

Ron snatched the letter from Harry, who watched as a grin spread on his face.

"Excellent! Hugo, here's a top tip from Dad: Never say no to a free lunch."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Is it a good idea to bring the children along? Maybe we should nip over to the Burrow with Floo Powder, ask your Mum and Dad if they can watch them."

"Hermione, think about who this is for," Ginny had a cavalier attitude to the development, "do you think they'll care? Probably makes a nice change from talking to stuffy ministry folk."

The disappointment of not going to Hogwarts had vanished from Lily and Hugo's faces. Hermione knew a losing battle when she saw it.

"Alright then," she sighed, but smiling as well. "I think you'll like them, anyway."

An hour of sitting in Ron's car later - Hermione wasn't nearly as reluctant about magical extensions as Molly Weasley had been - the two families had arrived in Charing Cross Road, and had entered a shabby looking pub unacknowledged by Londoners heading about their business.

"Hiya, Harry."

"Hello, Hannah. Neville make it up north alright?"

"Yeah, he wanted to make sure the mandrakes didn't get loose before the students arrived. Hey," she looked at Hermione, "what’s this I hear about Umbridge appealing to be released from prison?"

Hermione sighed. "Of course the Leaky Cauldron would find out before the Prophet did. Well, it's part of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's reforms. No sentence can be passed and never reviewed. Everyone has a right to oversight. Even _her_." She spat the last word with contempt.

"You're seriously considering releasing her?"

"If the facts warrant it. But they won't." She missed Harry scratching his hand.

"I bloody hope not. Now then, I suppose you're for the party upstairs."

"Yeah," said Harry, "they've arrived?"

"Yeah, they went to our new function room. Wow, you weren't kidding about them, they're huge."

The four adults grinned, while the two children looked intensely curious. Hannah led the six of them upstairs. There was a tall door that looked ancient and ready to collapse, but as she opened it, it led to what looked like a small ballroom with a polished wooden floor. It was already pretty crowded. Ron clasped his hands together in satisfaction.

"Ah, good, there's the sandwiches."

"Ron, shouldn't you at least say hello first?" ventured Harry.

"They're probably too busy, we've got time-"

"Ah, Harry!"

At the sound of this deep voice, the crowd in the middle of the room parted. Four figures approached them with surprisingly light steps.

"It's been too long, all of you!"

Asgore held out his large hand, and Hermione took it respectfully. He was wearing a purple and white tunic festooned with the Delta Rune, with shoulder pads attached to it that held his cloak in place. His broad smile was now flanked by liberal streaks of grey among the gold. Toriel stood alongside him and also sporting a genuine smile, looking mostly the same as ever, save the simple spectacles she now wore constantly.

"Oh, Toriel," said Ron cheerily as he gave her a gentle hug, "I didn't know you were still doing these diplomatic trips."

"I have not needed to for many years, not since we properly established ourselves." She moved on to shake the other's hands as she spoke. "But there is an education conference I hope to attend in a few days. And also, it is a good opportunity to spend time with my children."

The smaller of those children stepped forward. Maybe there was a side effect or residual magic from spending time around monsters and eating their food, because Frisk was tall, maybe as tall as Ron, but as if to compensate they were also rather thin. They were dressed in robes similar to Toriel's, though their Delta Rune had a red background compared to Asgore and Toriel's blue.

"How's it going? I bet it's been quiet." They shook Harry's hand.

"Can't complain," shrugged Harry. "I like a nice quiet life, me."

"Harry!"

The last Dreemurr took his hand. It had been twenty years since they shook hands like this, and although the size advantage had been reversed, Asriel had kept the knack of shaking hands like an equal. He was broader than Toriel, but not quite as tall as Asgore, and no colour but white adorned his head, while his horns curved much more simply than his father's. In some ways he stood out more than Frisk did in the family, because unlike their traditional garments he wore a black suit. He acknowledged his heritage with a purple shirt, with the top button open to allow a tuft of fur to peek through, and the Delta Rune embroidered on his breast pocket.

"You need to come visit more often, you guys! Oh, and I meant to thank you in person for that birthday present. Is it really a model of the whole galaxy?"

"Well I didn't count all the stars, so if there are any missing I can go get a refund. It's just down the street there." Both of them laughed laughed.

"Asriel! You're so big now!"

"Oh, Ginny! You look great!" He bent over a little to allow her to give him a quick hug. They had met a few times before, and had forged a common bond over less than pleasant shared experiences.

"Um, hello..."

Asriel looked down at the little girl holding Harry's hand.

"M-my name's Lily."

He looked at her for a moment, and then knelt on one knee.

"Howdy, Lily. My name's Asriel Dreemurr."

"Oh." She hesitated, but only briefly. " _Areyoureallyamonster?_ "

He pondered the question, and then looked at his hands as if surprised to find fur there. "Golly, looks like I am!"

"And you can do magic?" Hugo had slipped clear of his parents.

His green eyes suggested he had just been waiting for this question. "Sure!"

Holding an open palm, a small flame appeared in it, flickering all the colours of the rainbow. The flame twisted until it was an equally colourful star, which he sent zooming round their heads and then up to the ceiling, where it burst into rainbow sparks. Both children were impressed.

"Oh wow!" cried Hugo, and then launched into the next question. "My mummy says monsters are allowed to do magic in front of Muggles. Why is that?"

It was another question he pondered for a moment. "Well, nobody told us we shouldn't, and by the time wizards found out, we'd been doing it so long they just let us keep doing it, as long as we keep you a secret."

"That's a very simple explanation for wrestling a hundred and fifty Ministries of Magic to the ground to leave you lot alone," chuckled Ron.

"Well it helped we had friends in high places," said Frisk, returning Ron's grin.

"Very high places," agreed Asgore, "you earned so much trust by defeating him, you didn't have to spend it all on us, we could take care of ourselves."

"No," said Harry firmly, "you did that for too long."

Asriel got back to his feet and finished shaking hands with the others. Ginny slipped over to him.

"How are the dreams?" she whispered.

"Oh." He frowned a little. "Well, they still come up from time to time. That potion for dreamless sleep helps a bit."

"Perhaps a little too much in the early days, my son," interjected Toriel, "I am glad you continue to rely more on your therapeutic techniques." She then resumed talking to Ron about their chess game by owl post.

"Yeah," muttered Asriel with a trace of annoyance, "well mindfulness and acceptance of irrational thought is all well and good until you've remembered the time you tried to rip off-"

"Hey," Frisk hissed softly with an elbow in the ribs, "watch the F-moment."

He blinked, and shook his head a little, letting his ears flop. "Sorry, steering clear of unhealthy thoughts now."

"Oh, Harry," said Asgore, missing the exchange between his children, "I believe your friend Luna was in Domus Nova again a while back."

"Oh, really? Who was she pestering this time?"

"Frederick and Fregina the Froggits. She was trying to ask if their ancestors possibly came from the moon, because of their colour."

"Sounds like Luna alright." Ron smirked. "Remember when we first took her there and she quizzed Gerson about crumple-horned snorkack movements in the Middle Ages?"

"I like her." Frisk piped up. "She had some pretty insightful questions when she was part of that group that was studying monsters. She's got the right kind of open mind for thinking about them."

"Hey Dad," said Asriel, "what's on the agenda after this lunch?"

"Oh, until the tour tomorrow? Hmm, I don't believe there's anything planned. Why do you ask?"

"Well we were only in London once before and things were a lot less certain then. I was hoping I could visit Greenwich Observatory."

"Oh Asriel, you and your stars." Toriel smiled at him.

"I'd rather we not split up. The press in this country is rather, em, thirsty."

An old impulse not to disappoint seized Harry. "Well, as Head of the Auror Office, I can personally escort the Young Prince."

"Not without me you won't." Frisk looked determined. "He yammered about it for a week the last time and was crushed we couldn't go. After all that I have to see what the fuss is about."

"And who will nobly volunteer next?" asked Toriel with a knowing smile. "I suspect it shall be Ron."

"Me," blurted Hugo, proving her wrong, "I'll help keep them safe!" Before long, the Dreemurr Children had six volunteers willing to show them around, and perhaps see some of it for the first time themselves.

"We'll, um, hold the line about monster volunteers in the Department of Mysteries," Asgore nobly proclaimed, "don't stay out too late."

"We have our phones, we'll be fine."

After a somewhat dull lunch that betrayed its hasty nature, Ron was insisting he take them round to the Burrow that evening for a proper meal.

"Besides," he was saying, "Dad'll love to meet you."

"Oh?" Asriel looked a little pleased with himself. "Has he not met many monsters?"

"Nah, monsters are old hat to him. He'll want to talk to Frisk. A Muggle with opinions about magic! How can you pass up a chance for an interview?"

Frisk smirked as Asriel looked a little put out. It wasn't long before they left.

"Asgore, are you sure about this?"

"They're grown up, Toriel. They can make their own decisions. They always have done. Besides, don't think I don't know about your own little escort."

"My- Ah. I see. Yes, well, better safe than sorry. When Undyne was unavailable he seemed the best choice. No _bones_ about it." Asgore looked briefly stricken while Toriel smirked.

As Londoners bought hot dogs from a seller they were too busy to really question the appearance of, the party of eight walked up the street on their way to Greenwich, chatting about the stars. And monsters. And whispers about magic. Asgore's fear of press harassment didn't come to pass. If anything the opposite happened, with the Prince of the Monsters stopping to let passers-by take selfies with him. He always insisted it was a good way to plant more seeds for the future of humans and monsters, and a teasing quip from Frisk helped make sure it didn't go devolve into mere vanity. Nobody payed the rest of the vanguard much heed, the adults in particular long practiced at fading into the background when out in the open like this. This straddling the boundary between two worlds thing could be hard sometimes, but Asriel and Frisk wouldn't have it any other way.

All really was well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Doogly_Writes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doogly_Writes) for proof-reading the chess scene.
> 
> Thanks to [HushBugger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HushBugger/pseuds/HushBugger) for inspiring the word "Pneomomancy".
> 
> And [Thank you for reading.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2aQEcHwRCmo)


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